


Mortal Coil

by RedHawkeRevolver



Series: In thy mouth sweet as honey [2]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Dreams and Nightmares, Exhibitionism, Existential Crisis, M/M, Mystery, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pain Kink, Romance, Rough Sex, TOTAL canon divergence after season 2, Tropes, Vampire Sex, Vampire Tropes, black magic, cursing and crude language, dark and deviant humor, demons and dark deals, humans enslaved to vampires, there are no innocent Belmonts, vampire court politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2020-03-17 13:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 89,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18966058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHawkeRevolver/pseuds/RedHawkeRevolver
Summary: A Țepeș once again reigns over the night with a mortal by his side. But the mortal coil is weak, and woven in secrets. Belmont secrets. One tug and it may just unravel.





	1. Ignorance

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows very shortly after the end of the story: [No Exit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17257520/chapters/40582721)
> 
> Here’s a summary of that fic: Trevor has to drink Adrian’s blood as a life saving measure. They bond, fuck, fall in love, kill Carmilla, fuck and move in together. In that order. Also, Isaac resurrects a dead Belmont army, Hector gets rescued and Sypha burns shit.
> 
> Also, I started writing this series prior to the release of season 3 of the show so it diverges from canon entirely. If ‘No Exit’ was my own personal ‘season 3’, then this is my own personal ‘season 4’.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)

_~~~~~~_

_For the first time in his life, Trevor Belmont was terrified._

_There’d been times he’d been fearful before, sure. Scared shitless even more times than that. But those kinds of feelings you just pushed through. You fell back on training and wits and brute force if necessary and, if you were lucky, you were ignorant of exactly how many odds were stacked against you._

_Those times were not now._

_As Trevor shivered violently in the freezing cold room, he wondered if whatever asshole was sat up there in the heavens calling itself God would ever tire of shitting in his dinner. He thought not._

_Frost was forming on the walls and the flagstones beneath his knees were covered by a thin sheen of ice. His breath came out in erratic puffs. It seemed like the only warmth left in the world was Adrian, strong and immovable behind him._

_Teeth chattering, Trevor asked again. He had to ask again. He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t ask one last time. “So...we’re sure there’s no other way, right? Absolutely positive?”_

_“Don’t make this harder Trevor.”_

_Adrian’s reply was terse but then a sorrowful, exhausted sigh pushed passed his lips and he pulled Trevor closer. The linen of his shirt was soft and warm against Trevor’s naked back but it wasn’t nearly enough to drive away the chill that had needled its way down into his bones nor melt the icicles that felt like they were stuck through his heart. Adrian’s hands splayed across his stomach and he spoke with his mouth pressed to his shoulder._

_“I swear, if you say one more word, I won’t be able to do this. And then we’re both fucked, so for once in your fucking life, please...shut up.”_

_They were fucked long before this, Trevor thought bitterly. They were fucked because of the transgressions of others, not because of anything Adrian did or did not do in this one moment._

_Adrian squeezed him tighter and for a few long minutes it seemed like he might not actually do what he was supposed to do. What they’d agreed. What he had to do. But then he pulled back, brought one hand up to Trevor’s neck, extended a long sharp claw from one finger and then sliced it, swift and clean, across Trevor’s throat._

_The slash was deep and final. A single movement was all it took. Adrian didn’t give him time to brace himself, but it was better that way. Trevor was surprised it didn’t hurt like he thought it would. Somewhere in the distance he heard a disturbing gurgle of blood bubbling up and pouring forth. His? Probably._

_His legs buckled then and his head swam. Frantically, he tried to focus on something, anything. He tried to hold on, keep upright, keep his eyes open and his mind sharp, but it was no use. He tried to speak words but it came out as just another spurt of blood. He realized he was falling but he didn’t hit stone. Arms were holding him. Strong and immovable._

_Trevor’s racing heart slowed. It was okay. Adrian was there. He could relax. So he closed his eyes, not knowing if he’d ever open them again. Or if he did, what he would be when he opened them again._

_The last thing Trevor felt, before he felt nothing more, were hot tears falling on his cheeks. He couldn’t tell which one of them they belonged to._

_And then there wasn’t anything left to do but watch, from behind his closed lids, as his life flashed before him. Not his whole life. Just the important bits. The bits with Adrian. The recent bits, in their home, together..._

_~~~~~~_

Something was poking Trevor in the ass. Which would have been fine if it was Adrian’s dick. But it wasn’t.

It was morning, he knew. He was getting better at gauging the time of day inside the windowless castle. It was early still though so he shifted under the sheets and rolled away from whatever was trying to wake him up. He wasn’t ready to get up yet. The cool side of the pillow hit his cheek and he settled back in.

He got a few more seconds of sleep when something poked at his back this time. Then at his arm. Then at his face. It was a cold, wet nose.

“Adrian, _Jesus_ , stop being an asshole.” Trevor tried to pull the covers over his head. “I’m sleeping in today. We were up all fucking night.” He mumbled into the bedding.

They’d been up all fucking night _fucking_ so he’d more than earned a lie in. “And how many times do I have to tell you, _not in the damn bed._ It’s fucking weird. Go be a wolf somewhere else.”

When the cold nose found him under the blankets, Trevor had had enough. He reached out and tried to shove Adrian away, but instead of soft fur, he felt... _cold, rotted flesh?_

Trevor jerked back in horror and sat up. He scrambled with his arms and threw the _thing_ that disturbed his sleep off the bed and across the room with all his might.

 _“Shit! Fuck!_ What the hell is...”

“Trevor, stop, you’re frightening it.” Adrian was, in fact, there. He just wasn’t a wolf and he wasn’t in their bed. He stood in the middle of the bedroom holding the _thing_ that Trevor had tossed away. He stroked the ugly creature cradled in his arms, and shushed at it soothingly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Trevor swore. “How many of those fucking things is he going to make? And why are they wandering around everywhere like they own the place?”

Adrian put down Hector’s undead dog, _one of many,_ patted it’s head,  _'_ _head’ being a term Trevor used loosely,_ and let it scurry off, out of their room.

“You’ve forbidden him from raising humans, which I agree with, but there is no harm in him using his art to raise domesticated animals. They are useful, afterall. These small breeds are quite good at keeping vermin in check. And, I can’t say that I object to his fondness for canines.”

“No, of course you wouldn’t, you shameless mut.” Trevor reluctantly got out of bed and, seeing as how Adrian was already fully dressed, he resigned himself to the fact that their day had started. So much for sleeping in.

As days went though, and despite a dead dog’s wet nose serving as his rooster crow, he had very little to complain about. He couldn’t think of anything he needed at the moment and nothing had tried to kill him in weeks.

Trevor got dressed but when his stomach rumbled he recalled another reason he wanted to curtail Hector’s necromancy.

“Now that we’re on the subject of domesticated zombies, I forgot I wanted to add _dinner_ to the list of things Hector needs to leave dead.” When Adrian just raised an eyebrow at him, he explained. “Last week I caught a perfectly edible pair of hares. I hung them out to drain in the morning and by dinnertime they were gone. I thought maybe some greedy _wolf_ had gotten to them or something.” Trevor looked pointedly back at Adrian. “Until I saw them hopping across the landing on the third floor yesterday.”

Adrian frowned and seemingly missed the point. “You were just going to let fresh blood drain out onto the ground? A starved vampire would kill over such waste, you know.”

Trevor sort of thought he was being baited but he didn’t care. He walked over to Adrian and slid one hand around his waist. He brought his other hand up to grab the tip of the man’s chin and tugged a little. Adrian let his mouth fall open with a pliant smirk, his upper lip peeled back from his sharp fangs.

 _Definitely being baited._ But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to take it.

“Are _you_ starved _,_ Alucard?” Trevor asked in a slow drawl. “Because you know I love to hear you beg me for it.”

Trevor leaned forward and brought their mouths together, kissing Adrian’s upper lip, then he purposely nicked his own lip on the tip of one fang. A fat drop of blood welled up and Trevor just hovered there, waiting for Adrian to give in and take it.

When the prideful son of Dracula spoke, his voice was strained but defiant, his desire hidden behind a smile. “I’m quite satisfied at the moment, Belmont, thank you though.”

Trevor shrugged and let him go, continuing their game. “Then what the fuck do I care about starved vampires...” He backed away, the blood on his lip about to go to waste.

He was almost able to turn on his heel completely when Adrian caught his arm and gave in, as expected. And, as expected, he growled low, pulling Trevor back to him. He licked a slow, steady, stripe across Trevor’s lower lip, took his blood and then took his mouth in a rough and hungry kiss.

Trevor kissed him back, just as rough, just as hungry. They weren’t careful about it, the blood. They never were now. Lips and teeth, fangs and tongues, a touch of pain with their pleasure.

Trevor tasted it in his mouth, some of his and some of Adrian’s. He’d quickly learned to tell the difference. His was a simple metallic tang. Adrian’s was like a spark on his tongue. Strange and dangerous, the unique sensation it caused shot out through his body, making each of his nerves flicker then ignite, like the magic flameless torches illuminating the halls of the keep. Every accidental taste of it like this he got harkened back to that first time, when Adrian saved his sad excuse for a life by feeding it to him. Now, as then, it made him feel _better._ Aches evaporated and fatigue melted away. He felt eager, energized and right as rain. Confusion turned into purpose. Lost turned into found.

Sometimes, he thought that maybe dhampir blood was a new vice he’d become addicted to. He’d sampled his fair share of substances meant to erase the shitty experience of life, and replace it with the illusion of good feelings, to know that anything too good was almost always an illusion. Adrian in his arms was real though and as vices went, he prefered to think it was just the good sex he’d become addicted to.

But thinking too much about the reality of blood exchange would inevitably kill his mood so he redirected his thoughts down to his erection, _and Adrian’s,_ both rising quickly between them. Trevor dragged their pelvises together and started pulling on the ties of Adrian’s trousers. He almost had them loose when there was a knock at the door.

_“Alucard, Belmont. Are you both awake? We need to talk.”_

Adrian separated from their kiss. “Speak of the Devil forgemaster and he shall appear.”

_Fucking Hector._

Trevor cursed and let go of Adrian’s trousers. “Why are we letting him live here again?”

“Many reasons, Trevor, that you’ll remember when your blood makes its way back up to the head on your neck.” Adrian righted his clothes, licked his lips and went to open the door.

Trevor also licked his lips and adjusted himself back down into his pants. “This better be good. There’s always _something_ he needs to talk to us about. Something weird he found in the hold, something he read in a creepy book in your study, something magical and broken, _and probably dangerous,_ he picked up around the keep that he wants to fix, blah, blah, blah. Sometimes I think he wouldn’t mind if we invited him in here for a threesome.”

Adrian stopped. He tilted his head down so Trevor couldn’t see his face.

“I’ve never thought to ask what his sexual preferences are. _Why?”_

That last word sounded so accusatory, Trevor wasn’t quite sure how to answer. However Adrian meant that, it certainly didn’t sound like he was sharing in Trevor’s bad joke.

Trevor decided to just laugh it off. “I think we've established his preferences are probably more along the lines of you with a furry tail than my bare human ass.”

Adrian looked back at Trevor as he continued towards the door and he spoke without inflection.

“Well, it wouldn't be the first time I’ve done that. You’ll let me know if you’d like to try it.”

Trevor narrowed his eyes. “Wait, hold on…”

_He’d had sex with two other people at the same time before? Or he’d had sex with someone before as a…_

Adrian swung the door open before Trevor could ask for clarification. Not that he was sure he even wanted clarification on that statement.

Hector stood in the hallway with his hand up, about to knock again. Trevor stood in the bedroom with his hand still holding his hard on and his mouth agape at Adrian’s deliberately deviant suggestion. Hector lowered his hand, stepped back and fixed his eyes on the floor.

“I...uh...my apologies, if you were…”

“One of your dead dogs woke me up!” Trevor shouted too loudly, but he needed to change the subject immediately and redirect some blame.

“Oh...I’m sorry Belmont, I didn’t realize any of them had taken to wandering this far up the keep. It won’t happen again.”

Adrian dismissed the apology. “It’s not a problem, Hector, there’s no need to restrict them. And _I_ was already awake, so it wasn’t bothersome in the least.”

“Well, again, I’m sorry to disturb you both, but there’s something downstairs that needs addressed. And it needs addressed before nightfall.”

Trevor’s shoulders slumped. “It’s _dawn._ Sunset is a long fucking ways away. Why do we have to ‘address’ this now?”

Adrian ignored Trevor’s whining with practiced ease. He motioned for Hector to lead the way. Trevor sighed, quickly grabbed up his weapons, _just in case,_ and followed after them.

“I assume they came again last night?” Adrian asked Hector as they walked. Hector set a brisk pace and Trevor hurried to catch up.

He nodded. “Mm. They stayed outside nearly until the sun rose. I’m not sure how much longer they’re going to tolerate me putting them off, especially after what they brought with them this time.”

Trevor shook his head silently behind them. _This again._

Adrian responded as Trevor knew he would. “They’ll tolerate you putting them off indefinitely if that is what I say they’ll do.”

Trevor scoffed. “How can you be so full of yourself and still so damn magnanimous? They’re _vampires_. Tell them to leave us alone and fuck off for good, or let me pick ‘em off myself. I’m just about bored enough lately to start a fight anyway.”

This time, Hector shook his head. “There’s a fine line between cultivating enough fear to maintain order and indiscriminately laying waste. Vampire clans have joined together at times in the past to take down lesser lords among them who behaved like tyrants.”

“I’m not saying we go out and wage war against a whole species. We all know how _that_ worked out when _some people_ tried something like that before.” Hector stiffened but said nothing. “There’s no harm in killing a few here and there though, if they get annoying.”

And as far as Trevor was concerned, being cheated out of a lazy morning fuck because some vampire bullshit needed addressed was nothing if not the very definition of annoying.

“Threats to their lives aside, Belmont, they’re requesting a formal audience with Alucard. _Tonight.”_

Trevor was so surprised at Hector’s tone, he didn’t push back right away. This was the first time in all the nights Adrian’s vampire sycophants had come calling that Hector had reported his interactions with them so assertively. As Adrian had said, Hector was doing a good job putting them off without complaint, but now he seemed unwilling to let Adrian have his disinterested way as he usually did.

Trevor wasn’t ready to give in yet though. “They request an audience every night. Who cares anymore? These are the stupidest vampires I've ever heard of. When are they going to get it? No one is giving them an ‘audience’, and we’re all full up with severed heads on sticks so just throw out, _or bury,_ whatever sick tribute they dumped downstairs and tell them to go away. And if they don’t go this time, I’m happy to deliver the message myself. But I don’t think they’ll like my approach very much.” He made a point of letting the Morning Star’s chain rattle from where it hung at his hip as they rounded a bend.

“No, Belmont. It’s not appropriate for either of you to greet them directly. If there is to be a meeting, it needs to be formal and from a position that is dictated to them, not forced upon you.”

“Not forced upon us when you’re telling us they brought something that’s going to force us to meet with them? That fucking makes no sense.”

As always when they had these discussions, Trevor was getting frustrated. All he wanted to do was have breakfast and then maybe finish what he and Adrian had started upstairs before they were so rudely interrupted.

In truth, he wasn’t as bored as he’d claimed. Killing vampires was a good time and all, but so was this life he now lived. He’d much rather choose to kill evil things when _he_ wanted to instead of being backed into a corner and forced into it. The former was what he’d been bred for. The hunt was in his blood. The latter always ended up an unholy fucking mess, and honestly, he’d really rather not.

But, _as always when they had these discussions_ , Adrian attempted to make peace and find a middle ground. “I will consider a formal audience when I see what is so urgent. And if it must occur, it will be a formal audience to which Trevor brings his Morning Star.”

That effectively ended the argument for the time being and they climbed down the rest of the way to the grand entry hall silently. When they arrived, it came as no surprise that they were met by a corpse. Unceremoniously dumped just inside the large doors, it was on its back, rigor stiffening its limbs, dead eyes looking up at the vaulted rafters. The smell wasn’t as bad as Trevor expected. Or maybe he’d simply grown accustomed to the smell of death wafting about his home. And Hector was right. It was definitely different from all the others that had come before.

Trevor crept up to the thing and toed at it with his boot. “That’s, uh…”

“As you can see, this is no priest’s head on a pike.” Hector said.

“I can also see it’s not even a human.” Trevor glanced around the hall. “So...just the one then? Did you drag it in here yourself?” He asked Hector, who nodded in confirmation. Trevor kicked at it a few more times in a few more places to make sure it wasn’t going to come back to life and pose a threat, _-because things like that happened-_ then he stepped aside to let Adrian have a look.

Adrian crouched down beside the tall, pale, _vampire_ body. But ‘pale’ didn’t quite describe the extent of its abnormal coloring. The thing was ashen from head to toe, even for a vampire, and its skin was shriveled. Its face was gaunt, its eyes hollow, and its mouth opened wide in shock, showing fangs that were dry and yellowed as if time and the elements had withered them before the flesh still attached had a chance to disintegrate.

Adrian’s brows knit together and his lips pursed into a thin line. “Did you inspect it yet Hector?”

“Only a cursory assessment. But I can tell you there are no wounds. _None.”_

Something inside Trevor’s gut felt unsettled at the way Adrian was looking at the thing. That or he was feeling Adrian’s own unease. Sometimes those lines between them blurred, which was another thing Trevor tried not to think on too much.

“They brought him to you like this?” Adrian asked and Hector explained further.

“Yes. They said they found him in the forest. When he didn’t return from hunting the rest of his clan went looking for him. Something drained all of his blood, but they were unsure how and I must also admit ignorance as to how this could have happened. Until I can examine him properly, that is.”

The last thing Trevor was going to do was trust the word of a bunch of vampires. “I’d say they’re playing us and probably did this themselves.” He said skeptically. “But, I’ve never heard of vampires feeding on other vampires.”

Adrian turned the thing’s head up to get a better look at it’s neck that was, as Hector had said, without injury. “That is because vampires do not feed on other vampires. There have been instances where some particularly brutal ones have let their enemies bleed out. Being subjected to that kind of indignity is considered the ultimate disgrace.” Adrian’s eyes passed over the carcass again, top to bottom. “I have seen the victims of such a death. They do not look like this.”

To Trevor, it sounded distinctly like one of the ‘particularly brutal vampires’ who’d done this to their enemies in the past might have been Dracula, but he didn’t call out Adrian’s intentionally vague reference.

“Alucard...” Hector waited until Adrian looked back up at him with his full attention, then he finally got to the point. “They asked me if it was Belmont who’d done this.”

Trevor couldn’t have cared less what the vampires thought he did or didn’t do, but at the grave look Hector and Adrian exchanged, he guessed that wasn’t what the two of them thought about it.

Trevor folded his arms across his chest and stated the obvious. “I think we all know if I decided to start killing vampires around here there wouldn’t be anything left of them but dust. And why wouldn’t they think Adrian killed it? It’s not like he hasn’t killed vampires before too.”

Petulant though that sounded, it was the truth, but Hector was quick to refute the suggestion.

“The last time Alucard killed a vampire, it was because she invaded his territory. And he incinerated her in the sun for it, in front of her own army, as an example. I think they rightfully assume he wouldn’t lower himself to this sort of thing. _”_ He waved his hand down at the bloodless, disgraced body.

Trevor had to laugh. “Hear that, Alucard? You’ve got a reputation for extra fancy murders.”

Adrian did not share in Trevor’s mirth. _“Me_ killing vampires for infractions against me and mine is expected and accepted. _You_ killing vampires for sport…” Trevor opened his mouth to remind him that he did not, in fact, kill any vampires for sport, but Adrian held up his hand to acknowledge the effrontery before he could say anything. “...or others even _thinking_ that you had, could pose... _problems._ Acceptance has limits, Trevor. My father took a wife who was a brilliant, but _ordinary_ human. You are _not_ an ordinary human.”

“I’m also not your fucking wife, by the way.” Trevor grumbled. They’d yet to find a term Trevor found acceptable as to exactly what he was in relation to Adrian’s vampire king status. “And I’m ordinary enough to not waste my time killing vampires that mind their own business. I never did before, and I certainly wouldn’t now, especially since I’m fucking their new leader.”

Adrian’s only response was to look away from Trevor and turn to Hector. “How did you answer them?”

“I said it was not for me to speak about any business of my masters’ without leave.”

 _“Pfffttt.”_ Trevor puffed out another soft laugh. “Exactly who’s ass are you kissing right now?”

Hector still didn’t take offense and instead patiently offered a lesson in politicking. “It is better for all of us if I address you both formally. They should think I am here to support Alucard’s rule and support you in your position as his partner, not as a houseguest.”

Adrian agreed. “Hector is correct. The artifice is necessary.”

A long time passed after that, with Trevor and Hector looking down at Adrian who continued to stare at the vampire body. Trevor sensed there was something Adrian wasn’t saying. He knew there were lots of things Adrian didn’t say on a great many topics, all the time, but by now he also knew well the subtleties of the man’s silent turns. He knew which ones to challenge outright and which ones to prod at a little more gently. And he knew which ones he needed to leave alone, at least temporarily.

Adrian finally stood. “Hector.”

He spoke the name as if it were a command and Hector not only seemed to understand what was being asked of him but was also all too happy to oblige. He nodded his head. “I’ll need help getting him up to my forge.”

At the same time Trevor thought to himself that he didn’t like the sound of that, he said it out loud. _“I don’t think I like the sound of that.”_

Adrian bent to pick up the body himself and lifted it as if it were nothing more than a bundle of dry sticks instead of a cadaver as tall as him. “Something killed this vampire and drained it dry. His clan seems to want to blame you and I think you’ll agree, _Belmont,_ we can’t blame them for making that assumption. We can ill afford to remain ignorant about whatever the truth here is.”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you ignorance is bliss, Alucard?”

“I daresay that’s why you’re so often in a good mood, Belmont.”

Hector stifled a chuckle at Trevor’s expense and he followed Adrian upstairs.

 _“Assholes.”_ Trevor said under his breath. But then he followed along too, back through the castle, into its bowels, and off to the devil’s death room.

It was at least less grim looking since the last time Trevor had been there. Fire still lapped up around the corners of the floor, its light shining through the metal grates beneath their feet. But there were no old bones scattered around and the cages with chains meant for humans were all gone. The ‘dog’ that woke him up earlier was asleep on one of the massive stone tables. Hector shooed it away so Adrian could deposit the body onto it instead.

Hector’s large hammer hung in a corner, but he left it where it was. As he went to gather some of the nastier, more intricate looking tools of his trade, Trevor pulled Adrian aside. It was time for a little gentle prodding.

“So are you going to meet with the vampires or not?” Trevor asked.

Adrian avoided returning his gaze, keeping his eyes fixed on the dead vampire. The golden hue of those eyes seemed even more otherworldly by the light of the forge fires.

“We will have to meet with them.” He answered, still looking away. “But not before we arm ourselves with more information. Hector and I will see what we can derive from the body.”

“By reanimating it?”

“If needs be.”

Trevor decided to dip a toe into Adrian’s dark waters. He was under no delusion that their understandings of the world were equal. Trevor considered himself a simple man with simple desires and simple motivations and he liked it that way. But, for better or worse, their lives were intertwined now and Trevor knew enough to learn from their brief history. Nothing good would come of letting Adrian stew in his own overwrought sense of responsibility.

“Why do I think there’s something you’re not telling me?” Trevor said, as more of a statement of fact than a question.

“Because there are many things I’m not telling you, Trevor. I doubt that comes as a surprise. I also doubt you’d actually want to hear even half of all the things I don’t tell you.”

As true as that was, they needed to look out for each other whether Adrian was in a sharing mood or not. Trevor would fight blind if he had to, but he wasn’t even sure if they were walking into a fight yet and as he’d said, he would’ve been happy minding his own business and not walking into any fights at all.

Trevor waited to see if he would say anything else for a little while longer, but eventually, he just shook his head.

“You’re fucking lucky I trust you, Adrian. You know that, right?”

Adrian finally turned to him and looked into his eyes. Written across his face was one of the countless complex expressions he had that Trevor couldn’t read. _Yet._ He’d get there in time. Hopefully.

“I’m lucky for many reasons, love.” Adrian said, almost wistfully. “As it is, I may yet be forced to open Pandora’s box. Until then, let me enjoy us as we are.”

Trevor wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that either.


	2. Shame

Adrian was lucky Trevor trusted him.

Those words, _-generous, important, meaningful words-_ echoed in Adrian’s head, reverberating against his skull, mocking him with the mockery he’d made of that trust.

Unflinchingly, Trevor stood, observing from a far corner of the forge, without condemnation or judgement, while he and Hector dissected the vampire that had been brought to them. As they peeled back layers of skin and opened empty vessels, the stark absence of even the clotted remnants of corpse blood somehow made Adrian more acutely aware of his own, flowing through his body, _and Trevor’s._

Adrian stepped back and placed his tools on the table. This was yielding them nothing.

“We’re done wasting our time.” He said. “Stitch him up. Then raise him.”

Hector nodded in agreement and began the preparations.

Adrian turned to see Trevor frowning slightly across the room, but he was still being patiently silent. Adrian looked away and tried to ignore the shame growing inside his chest. Shame was a powerful devil, he knew, he just never expected it to have power over him like this.

He looked back down at the vampire he had just allowed to be desecrated and was now about to let Hector bring back to life. He rubbed at his temples and shook his head.

Vampires calling. Corpses at their door. Necromancy permeating their dwelling. Adrian wondered if Trevor held in a private disgust over it all, having to live as part of this world rather than having to fight against it. And not only that, but being personally subjected to it, night after night, as he bared his neck and bared his soul to Adrian’s relentless hunger for him...all the while, ignorant as to how he was being changed.

 _How can you still not have told him?_ But Adrian knew the answer to that question already. _It’s because you’re a monster._

Adrian took blood from Trevor every night, blatantly and greedily. But he was also taking something else from him, secretly and surreptitiously. Initially, it hadn’t been intentional. Over time though, and without consciously realizing it, his unconscious desires had taken over and a hidden intent, camouflaged by love, began to shape the magic of his blood inside Trevor, changing him, making him more and more _Adrian’s,_ each day.

 _Is this what humans feel for the ones they love most,_ he wondered? Or was the primal urge to own, to possess for all time, reserved only for the vampire in him?

It started with nothing more than a healed scar on Trevor’s hand. And then it was the faded creases across his forehead. Eyes brighter, smile smoother. Trevor was getting stronger too. And faster. It was so subtle, Adrian tried to doubt it but in his gut he knew. In his _heart_ he knew. And yet still he kept feeding Trevor his blood. It was so easy and so little. Nothing but a drop here and there, exchanged alongside every other passionate embrace they shared. He didn’t even have to try, all he had to do was not be careful, not be cautious.

_You’re reckless. Playing at things you don’t even fully understand. It’s unforgivable._

He was disgusted with himself each time, but that didn’t stop him and it didn’t make it easier to tell Trevor what was happening. He couldn’t explain it and he had no idea what the endpoint was or if there even was one, but that made it no less wrong withholding the little he did know. The excuse that he would tell him when he learned more was convenient, and so he clung to it.

To that end, he’d scoured his father’s libraries looking for answers as to how a dhampir, even be he Dracula’s son, could so fundamentally change someone and yet not turn them. Was it reversible? Permanent? Was he forging a new life somehow, no longer Trevor Belmont, but something different? The lie itself was practically its own monster now, living between them and growing. He confided in Hector and had him search the Belmont hold to try and find something, some reason it might not be his fault, some quirk of Belmont blood that had nothing to do with him that made Trevor special. In vain he groped for some absolution for his sin. So far, they’d come up with nothing.

“Alucard...” Hector said, then louder. _“Alucard...”_

“What is it?” Adrian brought his attention back to the situation at hand and away from ruminating over his despicable offenses.

“Will you and Belmont be staying for...this…?”

The body was ready for Hector’s spell, and Adrian noticed a pale blue glow had appeared around them, emanating from the table, and Hector’s hammer, which he now held in his hands.

“Oh, I’m staying.” Trevor said, as if it was already a foregone conclusion. He was still leaning against the wall, but his hand had come to rest on his whip.

Adrian nodded to Hector. “Proceed.”

Hector closed his eyes and concentrated. The blue light brightened, then expanded, until, in a flash that Adrian had to shut his own eyes against, it was done and the body before them stirred.

With a moan and a creak of stiff limbs, the newly reborn creature twitched and jerked. Unfortunately, it transitioned from mild, erratic motions to rhythmic, violent convulsions within seconds. Adrian had to place his hand on it’s chest to hold it down on the table. It screamed, loud and long and unnatural even for an undead demon. It flailed and reached out indiscriminately, almost grabbing Hector. Hector was able to back away and then suddenly, in his place, was Trevor. He had one of his daggers out, ready to plunge it into the beast, but he stayed his hand, waiting for a word from Adrian.

“Wait, it’s alright, let it adjust.” Adrian said, and he continued to restrain the once-vampire as it thrashed. Trevor kept close, weapon at the ready.

“He will obey your commands Alucard.” Hector said, then he added, “If he’s able to understand them.”

So Adrian gave his commands, gently but firmly. “Be still. And speak.”

The creature’s eyes met his and it grabbed Adrian’s wrist, but not to try to escape or fight. There was a fear, a desperation to the action, and then it obeyed, was still, and spoke.

~

Trevor watched and waited, the palm of his hand sweating around the grip of his dagger. No matter what Adrian said, if this thing turned into a threat he would put it down immediately.

The vampire struggled and even for Trevor it was tough to watch. Death was best when it was swift and clean. He was fast realizing that death was at its worst when someone tried to reverse it.

The undead abomination screamed and shouted until Adrian gave a command for it to be still. Amazingly, it listened. When it followed Adrian’s second command and started speaking, it was in a strange guttural tongue that Trevor didn’t understand.

Actually, that wasn’t accurate. Trevor didn’t understand the vampire’s language save for one word it kept repeating, louder and more insistent each time...

_...Belmont. Belmont. Belmont!_

Adrian leaned in and got face to face with the thing. It appeared he not only understood the vampire’s language but was able to speak it fluently. A flurry of foreign words were exchanged, ‘Belmont’ again being the only thing Trevor could make out from either of them.

“What the hell is it saying, Adrian?” Trevor asked, but his question was ignored. _“Adrian.”_ He pushed. “I’m not fucking kidding here, do I have to kill this thing or what?”

Before Adrian could answer, the demon screamed again as if in agony, effectively ending whatever had just passed for a conversation. It arched it’s back off the table and Adrian had to press down with more force to hold the creature steady. He reached out his other hand to Trevor.

“Your blade...please.” Adrian asked. “It is suffering. We need to end this.”

Trevor tried to push Adrian aside. “Here, let me…” He said, ready and willing to do the job he was made for.

Adrian stopped him and looked him in the eyes. “No. I let this happen. I will do it myself.”

Trevor hesitated for a moment but then he gave in. He held out the dagger and Adrian took it, a soft hiss signaling the burn in his hand from holding the blessed weapon. Without so much as a wince, Adrian bore the sting and plunged the blade into the vampire’s chest, ending it’s life once and for all, and ending it’s suffering.

As soon as the deed was done, Adrian dropped the weapon on the table quickly atop the rapidly disintegrating particles of demon that boiled and bubbled away as they watched. When there was nothing left but a bad smell in the air and an oily black puddle staining Hector’s table, Adrian stepped back. He clenched his fist and flexed his fingers a few times and though Trevor couldn’t see it, he knew whatever burn had been there was likely already healed. The only reason Trevor had given him the dagger in the first place was because he knew any damage Adrian suffered from holding it would be vanishingly brief.

He’d noticed early on that Adrian was different now that he’d been feeding off him regularly. Maybe it was because he was used to noticing the little things about vampires. Maybe it was because he was used to noticing the little things about Adrian specifically. Either way, compared to before, when Adrian wasn’t getting human blood every day, these days, he healed faster than normal, even for him.

And there was something else different about him too but it was harder for Trevor to put his finger on exactly what that something else was. Adrian’s spirit, his aura, his whatever the fuck you’d call the mysterious essence of him, seemed stronger somehow, _heavier_ , all encompassing when they were close and when they were apart, still powerful enough for Trevor to feel the weight of the man’s presence in his chest.

Once Trevor was sure of the positive effects a nightcap full of Belmont blood had on Adrian, he was more than happy to keep offering. He’d seen what happened when Adrian lost too much of his own blood and couldn’t feed. He had no desire to see him so compromised and vulnerable again. No matter what, if they were ever forced to fight suddenly and unexpectedly, as they had when Carmilla invaded, Trevor refused to have him be in anything but top form. So he let Adrian drink his fill of him.

It’s not like he didn’t get anything out of it for himself. He was long past being shy about how _fucking_ good it felt. The sensation of Adrian’s fangs penetrating, the sound of the muffled moans and the little pulls on his skin with each swallow. It made his cock hard everytime he just thought of getting bitten now, shameful as that was. What did he care about shame these days anyway? Not when there were vampires out there who thought of him first as a fucking ‘consort’ and not the demon hunter he was. Or used to be at least.  

Trevor took back his dagger and sheathed it. “Okay. So. Was that useful or...not? Because it looked like... _not.”_

“It was not as useful as I’d hoped.” Adrian folded his arms across his chest and stared pensively down at the demon stain.

“Wonderful.” Trevor only barely resisted the urge to say _I fucking told you so._ “Maybe there’s a book around here made out of bones or dried up eyeballs or something that we could consult instead?”

Adrian gave Trevor’s sarcasm a withering look, but that only spurred him on.

“Here’s an idea. Since the dark arts and demon raising didn’t seem to work, how about we do things the Belmont way?”

Adrian quirked a little smile. “Are you suggesting we get stumbling drunk until we accidentally fall down a hole and hope it leads us to a mythical savior with all the answers?”

 _“Oh you fucking…”_ Trevor was about to come back at him when Hector interrupted the fun.

“You know, you have a point, Belmont. The bestiaries in the hold are immense. Perhaps if the vampire was killed by a creature that someone in your family encountered in the past and recorded…”

“See!” Trevor exclaimed and he pointed a finger at Adrian. “I’m right. You’re wrong. Hector said so.”

“I am _certain_ that is not what you initially meant, but I suppose I must defer to your wisdom on this matter, Trevor.” Adrian seemed to be letting him win, but Trevor didn’t like the smug look on his face. “By all means, you and Hector should go down to the hold immediately. And read through _all_ of the _many,_ very _large,_ very _long_ books that could potentially provide us with information. So many generations of Belmont hunters, having so diligently catalogued the countless demons they smited...there must be dozens of useful tomes for you to study. Perhaps more. Who can say? That sounds like something you’ll enjoy a great deal. I shall leave you to it.”

The bastard shrugged, turned, and walked away.

“Hey!” Trevor shouted. “Wait. What about you?” If he was going to be forced to comb through boring shelves of books all day, he was dragging Adrian down there with him.

But when Adrian turned back around, his expression had changed into something dark and his tone was serious. “I am going to make preparations to meet with the vampires who have been so eager to get my attention.”

“So we _are_ meeting with them tonight then?” Trevor asked, half in immature anticipation of a brawl and half in more mature concern. Well, maybe more two-thirds, one-third than half and half.

“No, not tonight exactly. Hector, you can tell them when you see them this evening that I am granting their request for an audience... _that will take place at sunrise._ You may escort them inside the keep at dawn. They’ll be perfectly safe.”

Trevor smiled. He knew he loved Adrian for a reason. “They’ll be perfectly safe.” He repeated with a laugh. “And they’ll also be trapped in here for the duration of the daylight hours with the big scary Alucard and his wife, the murder-happy Belmont who they think drained all the blood out of their friend over there.” Trevor jerked his thumb at the demon stain on the table.

“Did you just call yourself my _wife,_ Belmont?”

“I’ll call myself whatever you want if you’ll let me stake some vampires.”

“We’ll see.” Adrian smiled a little. Trevor always felt like he won something when he got Adrian to smile.

“While we’re on the topic of _me_ ,” Trevor continued cautiously, “care to translate the nice talk you had with the zombie vampire and explain why it was saying my name?”

Adrian shook his head. “I wish I could. It made no sense. And it just kept repeating the same thing.”

“Which was?”

Adrian clenched his teeth and set his jaw. A sharpened edge to his voice came through when he answered. “It said, _‘Where is the Belmont?’”_

Adrian did not elaborate further. He left them with that disturbing bit of information and their instructions as he walked out of the forge.

“Search the hold. I will find you when I am finished.”

“Finished with what exactly…?” Trevor called after him, but he was already gone.

~

The world and its myriad demons were creeping in on them, as Adrian always knew it would eventually. It was too much to ask that they be left alone. He’d always been unwilling to rule, but now he also felt ill-prepared.

Things had reached a critical mass, between his blood insidiously changing Trevor, the vampires with their schemes and ambitions circling like vultures and now maybe something else? Something that was searching for a Belmont. If it was searching for _his_ Belmont, that was a problem Adrian could not ignore.

Trouble was stirring out there in the night. And nagging at the back of Adrian’s mind was the thought that there was something he was missing, some grander design that he would need to get control of lest it, whatever _it_ was, take over and start dictating to them what direction their lives would go in. There was a bigger picture he couldn’t see yet and he knew there were no books that would instruct him in how to assemble the pieces of it.

For once, he hadn’t withheld any information from Trevor when he asked what the resurrected vampire had said. Adrian tried to get it to explain its crazed entreaties regarding ‘Belmont’, to no avail and he wasn’t heartless enough to let the creature continue suffering. It was a dangerous unknown, piled atop everything else.

He wished Isaac were here to provide objective counsel, but even if he was, Adrian suspected his advice would lead to the same conclusions he’d already made for himself about what he had to do next. He needed to stop prevaricating.

Adrian walked quickly through the castle, as if going slowly would cause him to rethink his decision and reverse his steps. Down he went from the forge, past his father’s laboratories and the living quarters, deeper down past the kitchens and the cellars and past even the dungeons. The air grew cold around him and breathing in its chill seemed to strengthen his resolve. If he ever wished to be warm in Trevor’s arms for more than one fleeting moment in time, he must act coldly against those who would oppose them.

The sharp sound of his boots on the polished floors of the upper levels dulled the lower he descended turning into a damp thud against lichen covered stone. There were no torches this far down, no mechanical lights, only darkness and silence. When he came to the end of a passage narrower than his arm span with a ceiling so low he could reach up and touch it with his fingertips, he stopped in front of a door covered in cobwebs.

Adrian had shown Trevor much of the castle. As much as he could, as much as he felt safe showing, but he would never bring him here. His own mother had never been down here. Coming here himself was something he’d hoped to avoid, but he would do anything to keep Trevor safe and preserve the life they wanted to build together.

Trevor had given over his entire self for him, his body, his blood, his very being. There was no adequate recompense that Adrian could offer to match such devotion. He was left with nothing else to prove his own devotion but this. The security they derived from their victory over Carmilla was transient. Momentary power wasn’t enough. Lack of vigilance meant weakness. Complacency meant death.

No one knew that better or had suffered the consequences of that fact more than Dracula. So, against his better judgement, he would seek guidance from his sire.

Adrian placed his palm on the door and the cobwebs blew away to reveal runes etched deep into the stone. Like blood running hot through the branches of a body’s vessels, a red glow spread out from his hand over and across the carvings until all were colored bright. With a hiss and a scrape of rock against rock, the door slid open and Adrian walked into the room beyond.

It was bare of ornaments, bare of furniture; there was no flooring and no paneling, no machines or contraptions. There was only stone and dirt and at the center of the space was a coffin. His father’s coffin, open and empty. The door shut on its own behind Adrian and he took a deep breath.

The memories of his father often haunted the space just at the edges of his dreams. They shared blood, so something of the man would always live inside his son. It was easy to avoid that fact though, and all those memories along with it, when Trevor was foremost in his thoughts and close by his side when he chose to sleep. He would have been happy to share his bloodbound dreams with his lover alone for the rest of their days, enjoying the present and hoping for the future rather than dwelling on the past and all the mistakes he’d made therein.

But those who did not learn from the past were condemned to repeat it, so he stepped into the coffin and let the lid close. Cocooned in blackness, the tangible world far above, this was the best place for him to rest and focus his dreams on the past, on the blood that bound him to his sire, on the man who had been his father, so perhaps, he could learn from him.

All the books and materials in the keep could speak to the substance but not the essence of Dracula. He hoped there was some wisdom, some clue, some crucial enlightenment he could receive to guide his steps forward.

Adrian had no idea if anything would happen when he closed his eyes. He could be met with nothing but more darkness and silence. He’d killed Vlad with his own hand. It was possible that act effectively severed any meaningful ties their souls had in this or in any other plane of existence. For the first time in a long while though, he hoped not. Shame was his constant companion now, but he would swallow the shame of the patricide he committed and beg for help if he had to.

After only one more moment of doubt, Adrian let sleep take him. He needn’t have worried. The devil found him quickly and before he could even open his eyes on the dream world, he heard an unmistakable voice in his ear, harsh and reproachful.

_“If you have chosen to love as a man, my son, why do you now call to me as a vampire?”_


	3. Doubt

****Adrian opened his eyes. He was in the sitting room in the east wing on the second floor of the castle. His mother’s sitting room. It had a comfortable hearth, a rug embroidered with cream lilies and furniture upholstered in blue. A crackling fire and the scent of Lisa’s perfume in the air warmed him right through. The feeling was welcome since the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was the cold stone of his father’s coffin.

In contrast to the soft atmosphere and gentle color palette surrounding them, was his father, clad in black, with his hard angles and his dark countenance. He sat rigidly in his chair, elbows propped on the arm rests, fingers tented over his chest.

“It’s your move, Adrian.” Vlad said, and he looked down at the chessboard between them.

“I...uh...of course father...” Adrian straightened then bent over the board to study the pieces. His white queen was in peril. He appeared to be losing, so he took his turn and made a hasty retreat.

Vlad glared down his nose at Adrian and moved his black knight in response. “As usual, your attack strategy leaves much to be desired, son. You’ll need to sacrifice your bishop now if you want to save your queen.”

Adrian raised an eyebrow at his father’s assessment of the game. “Why does that sound poetically reminiscent?”

The pale red of his father’s eyes darkened several shades and he raised a matching imperious eyebrow at him. “Probably because I have no love for bishops. And probably because I asked you a question you have yet to answer. You sit on my throne and took a mortal for a queen. Have you finally realized that defensive posturing alone is not enough to rule effectively and protect what is dear to you? Is that why you’ve come to me?”

Adrian knew this wasn’t going to be easy, _-for either of them-_ but he wasn’t ready to capitulate to his father’s world view just yet.

“You would have me sit atop a throne built of skeletons, drinking blood from the skulls of the fallen. That is not my way. And I’m not sure Trevor would appreciate how you’ve labeled him.”  

“I care not for your silly Belmont’s perceptions of himself. I care about _you.”_

Adrian considered the board. Then he sacrificed his bishop. “He and I…” He started, then tried to correct his wording, but he knew it made no difference how he said it. Their situation was what it was, and all fault lay with him. “He and I...we’re bound together now. Our fates are one.”

Just as Vlad was capturing his bishop, Adrian added, as if childishly looking for some sort of approval, “Together we managed to throw back a threat to this castle and free your friend Hector in the process.”

Adrian picked up his queen and repositioned it to strike at his father’s knight.

“You speak of Carmilla?” It sounded like a casual question, but Vlad looked far too self-satisfied. “I was forced to bear unfortunate witness to that comedy of errors you engaged in.” He leaned forward and his voice slowly got louder as he spoke. The deep timbre of it now came not just from his mouth but from the walls all around them. “I may no longer have a corporeal form but my blood lives on, running through your veins and soaked into the very foundation stones of this keep. _Obviously,_ you realize this or you would not have initiated this pleasant father-son reunion.”

He relaxed in his chair again and the ominous edge in the air receded. “So, yes, I am well aware of how you allowed an invasion into this castle. And if, when you say _‘we’,_ you mean Isaac and your Speaker witch made it possible for you to throw back the threat, I agree with that statement. Otherwise, you and that bumbling Belmont would have been vampire fodder. Your love blinded you and it almost cost you everything.”

Vlad looked down and muttered softly as he moved his own queen. “I speak from the experience of failure.” Then he looked back up at Adrian. _“Check.”_

Adrian countered, both against his father’s cynicism and the imminent checkmate by aggressively advancing his pieces. “She would not have thought you a failure.”

“And yet, she is dead.” Vlad replied with cold finality as he captured Adrian’s white queen.

Adrian’s frustration was growing. This was how it had always been between them. Vlad would calmly challenge and Adrian would rise to meet him, only to see the bar elevated even higher out of reach. He wasn’t sure if the immature stubbornness he now felt was because his father was pointing out his shortcomings or if it was because he was losing their chess match. He’d never once beaten the man at chess.

“Are you telling me never to love? Or are you telling me never to love a human? I refuse to believe you regret those same choices you made.” Adrian attempted to castle his king and he braced himself.

Vlad snapped quickly back. “Spare me your finger pointing, boy. Your mother was a beautiful, _fierce,_ genius, if too kind for her own good. That Belmont you’re bedding is an inebriated _dunce.”_

“You underestimate him.” Adrian was just as quick to defend Trevor. Then his father swiped his rook from the board.

“The only thing about the Belmonts I have ever underestimated is their seemingly endless myopic stupidity.”

Adrian had to make another strategic retreat, giving up his remaining bishop in the process. “If you think them so inept, then help me to protect the last of them... _the one I love more than anything.”_ He closed his eyes at that humiliating confession and let his head fall into his hands. He loved. Blindly, just as his father said. He loved senselessly, without a plan and without a clue as to what exactly he was supposed to do with that love in the long run. Protect it, keep it close? Let it be, let it breathe? “I...I wasn’t expecting to fall...like _this.”_ Adrian admitted helplessly. “Least of all with _him.”_

“Galling, isn’t it?” Vlad commented dryly.

In spite of them both and their shared folly, Adrian smiled. On some level, his father understood. “I know I must not show weakness. I know I must rule. And I also know the vampires will never accept him as he is. _Because of who he is.”_ He frowned and looked back up at his father. “They are suspicious of him. They think he killed one of their kin in the woods, but it’s clear it was something else that did it, so simply murdering any of them who questions us is pointless if there are other threats I can’t yet see.”

A low chuckle was not the response Adrian had hoped for or expected, but it was all he got.

“Has your dear pet Belmont ever told you anything about his distant sire?” Vlad asked, changing the direction of their discussion. “Leon and I were as close as mortal enemies could be. He was a proper little knight with more self-righteous passion than sense as is usually the case with his ilk. When I knew him, he was young and naive and he did not realize there were beasts out there in the world far worse than me.”

Chess game forgotten, Adrian leaned forward. “What do you mean? Is there a demon you know of that hunts vampires?”

“Other than humans?” Vlad said with a smirk. “Not specifically, no.”

“Then what am I to do?” Adrian spread his hands, pleading. In the absence of his father’s towering presence and towering intellect from the world, he’d grown comfortable as the one with the upper hand, the one keeping all the secrets. Now he felt at a disadvantage, in front of someone with knowledge so vast as to dwarf whatever crude understanding of life he thought he had. “What are you not telling me?”

“Whatever you may think, Adrian, you are my beloved son. You are the greatest gift your mother gave to me. You are unique and you are important. Far more important than a damn Belmont human. The only advice I have to give to you is to _turn him._ Do not repeat your foolish father’s mistakes. Make him yours, and make him strong. Make him immortal. And then none will dare stand against you.”

Adrian dropped his head again, shame and doubt rising in his cheeks. “I...I may already be turning him. I don’t know…he is... _changing._ More and more every time we…”

 _“Then finish the job and be done with it.”_ Vlad snapped. “Before it’s too late.”

“Before _what_ is too late? Before another vampire makes an attempt on our lives? Before he comes to his senses and realizes that he is damned for all eternity if he stays with me?”

“He was damned long before he met you.” Vlad said darkly, his eyes intense now and almost black. “He is lucky you fell in love with him. Becoming yours may be the only hope he has left.”

Adrian clenched his fists. “What does that mean? What do you know?” If it was for Trevor, he was not above begging. “Please father, _please…”_

Vlad sighed and finally took pity on his son. “I know only this: long ago, Leon had the chance to kill me, but he did not. I was…” He closed his eyes and exhaled, long and sorrowful, “...tired of living, tired of _existing._ I couldn’t have predicted fate would eventually grant me your mother and all I had to do was wait for reprieve. At the time, Belmont seemed as good an exit from the world as any. But when I opened the door and practically handed him his moment of glory, he refused to take it.”

“He... _refused?”_ Dumbfounded, Adrian repeated the statement and continued to listen with rapt attention.

Vlad nodded. “The man swore to me he would commit himself to protecting his fellow humans from the creatures of the night. But he also swore that neither he nor any of his progeny would come for _me_ again, even if the world believed that they would try. And none ever did.”

Adrian was more confused now than when they started their conversation. “But there have been other Belmonts who found the castle, _who hunted you._ Trevor said his grandfather…”

“Yes. He was here once as well. We had tea and played backgammon. I let him sketch pictures of the lights. He was fascinated by them. It was a pleasant evening and when he left he bade me good fortune and departed with both his life and mine intact.” Vlad chuckled at his son’s shock. “You think them so innocent? There are no innocent Belmonts, Adrian. They keep their own secrets, and though I was never privy to them, the stink of their hypocrisy was unmistakable.”

Adrian was incredulous. “But the hold has hundreds of trophy skulls. Are you telling me they hunted every vampire in Wallachia save _you?_ And you had interactions with them, yet you never…” Adrian focused his gaze on his father’s fangs peeking out from behind his subtle grin.

“Regretfully, I never tasted a Belmont. If I had, perhaps I would have learned something from their blood that spoke to the truth of them. But you _have_ tasted one of them. So you tell me. Does your Trevor taste of duplicity?”

Adrian shook his head. “He would not knowingly deceive me. Of that I am certain. And I find it hard to believe he keeps any damning ancestral secrets when his family never even taught him how to get into their hold. He was practically still a child when he was driven from his lands and his legacy.”

“Legacies have a way of always finding you.” His father looked into his eyes then and Adrian knew that truer words were never spoken. Vlad took a deep breath and gestured at the chess board. “It seems you’ve nothing but pawns left, Adrian.”

“Then what should my strategy be, father?” Adrian asked with humility.

Vlad’s voice lowered and echoed from the walls again. His features hardened and in the place of his father, a vicious warlord stared back at him. “Use them.” Vlad said. “Play them. Sacrifice them. Drive them across the board until you win back your queen and then strike. Do not doubt yourself and do not doubt that _you_ are the arbiter of death. You must wield the scythe and reap as you see fit. Or someone else will take that legacy from you. And remember…”

Adrian suddenly couldn’t keep his eyes open. The chess pieces blurred and the sitting room around him faded away. He slumped in his chair, so tired he could barely keep listening. He struggled to stay conscious, but blackness swallowed him up and soon, Vlad’s disembodied voice was the only thing in his world, warning him, and leaving him with nothing but more questions and only one option he dared not consider.

_“Remember Adrian, you and I, our kind, we love deeply. Not even your mother could understand. Humans cannot understand. We love boundlessly, for what is there to bind us? Our passions, our hungers are without limit. Our love is just another appetite that cannot be contained. It is painful and dangerous. If your Belmont is willing to accept that, then you’ll both need to do what you must, or you’ll lose everything, as I did. There can be no compromise, no half measures. Claim him. Or lose him. And then you’re lost as well.”_

~

“Get lost!”

Trevor yelled at the undead dog humping his leg. He tried to kick it away, _gently,_ but Hector saved him before he had to resort to anything more violent.

“I apologize again, Belmont, I’m not sure why they all seem to be partial to you.” Hector picked up his mut and kept talking. “Animals have an uncanny sense of judgement when it comes to people, though, so the fact that they like you means you’re worthy of respect.”

“They’re not _animals_ anymore, Hector. They died. And now they’re demons. Tiny little demons. Sneaking into my bed. And humping my leg.”

“You do realize, with that logic you’re admitting that demons are attracted to you?”

Trevor shrugged. “Since I never bothered to deny that, there’s nothing to admit to.”

Hector smiled and let Trevor pass to lead the way.

At first, he wanted to go after Adrian to get some specifics about what he was doing to prepare for holding court. He doubted it involved dusting the throne room and finding an impressive cape to wear. Looking at the remnants of the double-undead, _now very much dead,_ vampire-zombie made him reconsider though. Adrian had given him a job to do. He was a damn Belmont and the damn Belmonts hunted demons. If the family bestiaries held any answers it was up to him to find them. Unless they were written in some cult language he couldn’t read. Then he supposed it would be up to Hector.

They hadn’t yet gotten around to figuring out how to connect the hold and the castle underground, so he and Hector exited the keep and walked out into a fairly grey day. Spring rain clouds threatened overhead and the muted sunlight made the rows of ‘tributes’ easier to ignore.

They’d tried taking them down every morning when it first started, but more would inevitably pop up, so eventually, they got lazy and just left them. Hector said the vampires were pleased they’d finally been accepted, not that Trevor gave a shit if they were pleased or not, but he supposed it also had the added benefit of keeping any curious humans away. Idly, he wondered if bringing out some of the vampire skulls in the hold and stringing them across the manor’s exterior would keep the vampires away. Then maybe he and Adrian could finally have some peace. He doubted it though.

As they strolled the short distance across the way, Hector pointed out some new additions to the old Belmont holdfast that was rising stone by stone into the sky after years of neglect. Over the past few weeks, something resembling a structure was forming over the ruins. Amazingly, Hector had found the plans for its initial construction down in the hold, so they were attempting to rebuild it to the original specifications.

“Have you seen the far tower?” Hector craned his neck back to look up at it. “There’s been quite a bit of progress.”

Trevor side stepped before he was knocked down by one of the reasons for that ‘progress’. A giant stone golem was hauling a massive timber beam for placement in a part of the interior that now had a roof.

When Trevor had suggested he wanted to rebuild the place, he’d meant with his own two hands and a hammer. What he didn’t realize was that when Adrian had agreed to help him rebuild the place he’d meant with the summoning of a small army of automatons from the castle’s basement and having Hector instruct them as to their tasks like a foreman. Trevor recalled exactly what Adrian had said on the matter, in fact:

_“Did you somehow imagine my father personally laid each brick of the castle himself? That is a stupid assumption even for you, love. These golems are machines meant to aid in large scale construction. Nothing more.”_

And then he’d kissed him and the argument ended in favor of more of that. Trevor couldn’t say he’d been happy about the fact that the slight against his intelligence was sandwiched between a kiss and an endearment, but he hadn’t exactly objected outright. Before he knew it the Belmont ruins were looking less like ruins and more like a manor without him having to lift a finger. So basically Dracula’s castle won again. Since it’s resources were being utilized to fix the Belmont ancestral home, though, it was a questionable victory at best. Trevor took solace in that.

Once they were down in the hold, Hector lit some torches and they got to work. Fortunately, he seemed to have a plan of attack. Trevor had spent enough time down here now to know a general layout of the place, but Hector would often spend whole days and nights roaming the shelves, so he practically had the index memorized.

“The bestiaries are actually organized by Belmont generation and not by taxonomy.” Hector said as he brought Trevor to one of the more recent sections.

There were farther, deeper alcoves in the place, from the earliest days of his family in the country, and whole rooms covered in cobwebs and dust they’d yet to explore. “We should start with your father’s catalogues and move backwards. His writings and illustrations were quite detailed. Do you recall if he had a specific interest in the biological sciences?”

“Are we really calling drawing pictures of the demons he killed ‘science’?”

“Recording observations and experiences for posterity and future study is the most basic form of science, Belmont. Here.” Hector held out a huge stack of books for him to take and nodded at a desk he could sit at.

Trevor sighed and leafed through a few pages of the book on top. “Oh, thank god, I can read it.” Feeling better about things, he went to sit.

_“Ah! Shit!”_

Suddenly, something made Trevor drop the books and jump back. For the second time that day, he was taken by surprise by something undead. A pallid zombie surrounded by an amorphous cloud of smoke appeared directly across from him, next to one of the many tall shelves. On a deeply ingrained survival reflex he pulled out his whip and snapped it at the demon, but all he succeeded in doing was knocking down an already precariously overfull bookshelf. The culprit vaporized away unharmed.

“Belmont! What are you doing?” Hector shouted as he ran to try and catch the falling shelf, but it was no use. The thing toppled and even brought another stack down as it crashed, dust and books scattering to the floor.

“Did you see that? What the hell was that?” Trevor pulled in his whip, ready for another strike. Hackles raised, he darted his eyes from shelf to shelf, looking for more threats.

“What do you mean what was that? _That_ was one of your relatives.” Hector shook his head in what looked like disappointment before he knelt to start picking things up.

_Fucking forgemasters and their fucking zombies._

Trevor put away the Morning Star and went to help while he was forced to ask the obvious next question. _“Hector._ What in the unholy fuck is one of the Belmont zombies doing _walking around the hold?”_

Hector’s answer was possibly just as frustrating as having been snuck up on by an undead relative in the first place.

“Perhaps because he wished to walk around for a bit? I’ll admit I don’t stop them to ask when I see them. And they certainly don’t need a by your leave from me. This is their home.”

Trevor just stared at Hector’s completely serious face. Instead of losing his patience, he took a moment to recall that he’d been the one to let Isaac resurrect an army, _-though he hadn’t expected it to be his family at the time-_ and he’d been the one who let Hector bind them to the hold as a defensive force.

“Hector.” Trevor started more calmly this time. “I thought the Belmont’s were all...you know... _asleep_ or dormant or...something. Something... _not walking around.”_

“I didn’t _imprison_ them in slumber, Belmont. Yes, I made it possible for them to rest here until called but I left them with the ability to wake up if they chose to at least take a walk.” Hector was talking to him like he was a simpleton, but Trevor was sure he wasn’t the fucking weird one here. “I had to bind them to the hold but they aren’t captives. They can roam here as they wish.”

“Of course.” Trevor sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere if he continued this conversation. “Of course they can. And I suppose it would be too easy to just call them all over here and _ask_ if they’ve heard of any vampire-eating demons in the woods?”

Hector paused and actually seemed to consider the ridiculous proposal. Trevor had to repeat to himself that he wasn’t the crazy one here. _Because he really wasn’t._

“I’ve not heard any of them speak.” Hector decided. “It’s unlikely they can. I’m amazed Isaac was able to raise so many, and so many that had been dead for so long. His power is truly something impressive but giving a forged demon the ability to speak requires a great deal of time and effort, which he didn’t have when you were trying to take the castle back from Carmilla.” He quickly added. “They are most certainly sentient though. And they are most certainly Belmonts.”

Trevor rolled his eyes, but he bit. “And what is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Well, they’re sort of...irreverent, if I’m being honest. Either that or they don’t like me very much.”

“Can’t imagine why that is.” Trevor mumbled as he righted one of the shelves.

“For instance,” Hector continued, apparently not bothered by Trevor’s snark, “last week I found what looked to be an interesting codex in one of the older sections, chronicling the issue of your clan. I’d meant to study it further, and set it aside with some other tomes I’d pulled on Leon Belmont’s various lineal descendants, but when I went back to them the next day, they were all gone. I searched the shelves I originally found them in, but they weren’t there either. I think the Belmonts were playing a prank on me and hid them. They must be terribly bored. I should try to find them again…” Hector muttered to himself as he attempted to organize the clutter.

“Why were you looking up my lineage? That would make me terribly bored. I’d think you’d rather read about all the illicit alchemy you seem to believe my family was involved in back in the day.”

Hector furrowed his brow and stared at Trevor. He looked like he was mulling over something then he ventured forward, more serious now and less conversational. “Alucard asked me to research the history of your family specifically. He thought you should learn more about your bloodline. Have you...spoken to him about it?”

“Spoken to him about my bloodline? Not as such. Why?”

Hector turned away with what Trevor swore was a disapproving look. “Belmont, do the two of you _talk_ much? In between fucking? It’s useful sometimes, you know. _Communication.”_

“What do you mean? We talk!”

“Talking mid-coitus doesn’t count.”

“Hey, how the hell would you know? Eavesdropping on us are you?”

“Belmont, it is nigh impossible to avoid accidentally hearing or witnessing the two of you and your sexual adventures around the castle. Why do you think I spend so much time down here? It’s the only place you _don’t_ fuck. _Loudly.”_

Trevor looked away, red-faced. “Uhh. Yeah. Well…”

Hector attempted to mollify. “There’s no reason to be ashamed.” Then he just made everything more embarrassing. “And if this library is any indication, you’re following after your predecessors. Did you know there’s an entire section dedicated to sex?”

“I did _not_ know that. And I think I could have been happy _never_ knowing that. But since we’re here now, I’m going to hope the sex section is dedicated to sex with humans and not demons.”

“I’m not sure why you would hope that given that you’re sleeping with a dhampir. I haven’t really gone over the sex books in detail but there seemed to be a large number of grimoires in that particular collection. I can only imagine what kind of magic those spells invoke when cast. There was clearly more your family was interested in than the art of combat.”

Trevor turned away, possibly to escape this entire little talk they were having, but then he tripped over another stack of books and clumsily landed on his ass. On top of more books. _“Fuck!_ Ugh, the only art the old Belmonts had was stubborn hoarding. So why the hell not accumulate some sex books too while they were at it?”

“Anyway, Belmont, I didn’t mean to overstep by bringing it up. You and Alucard are entitled to happiness. You’re quite attractive together. And well-suited to each other. Still though, _talking_ is just as important as fucking. Keep that in mind.” Hector looked around and it seemed their awkward conversation was over. “These shelves are a mess. And this was where your grandfather’s bestiaries were too, if we can even find them now. Why don’t you just take your father’s logs and start going through them. I’ll keep trying to put this section back together.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.”

Hector mother-henning him about his relationship was sounding a little too much like Sypha and Trevor wondered if he took some of his marching orders from her before she left. He wouldn’t put it past either of them.

Like a dutiful little Belmont, Trevor took his books and found a comfortable corner to sit in. He pulled a chair up to a table where he dropped the musty texts and got himself a candle to read by.

He wanted to fall asleep two pages into the first book. Maybe it was just because he hadn’t had much sleep lately. _What with all the fucking Hector was trying to avoid witnessing._ Maybe it was just because his father’s pathologic attention to detail got mind-numbingly dull after a few sentences. Either way he had to fight to keep his eyes open.

He also had to admit to a bit of guilt. What the hell had he been doing his whole life? His old man was younger than him when he died and he’d managed to accumulate and record all this... _stuff_ about the family trade and contribute to the knowledge collected here. All Trevor had managed to do with his time on earth was learn where all the taverns were between Targoviste and Braila.

He had helped kill Dracula though. That was something. And now he was some kind of night horde vampire court king’s consort? But maybe that wasn’t anything to be proud of.

The hours wore on and all he’d learned from his father’s writings so far was that there were a fucking lot of demons out there and some Belmont at some point had killed at least one of each variety. If Trevor were anyone else, he’d consider it a shocking path of carnage his family had sown across the country. He understood why Adrian wasn’t very comfortable down here. And he supposed he also understood why Adrian’s ‘subjects’ weren’t very comfortable with him standing by Adrian’s side and whispering Belmont demon-killing obsessions in his ear as it were.

It was getting to be late in the afternoon and his candle was burning down. For all the demons he’d learned about in one sitting, not one of them was documented to have a taste for vampire blood. Trevor laid his head down over his arms on the table. If Adrian didn’t reappear from whatever he was doing by dusk, he planned on going to find him, but a little nap in the meantime wouldn’t hurt. He wanted to be rested if they were going to host a party of vampires in the morning and he had no delusions he would get any actual sleep in their bed tonight.

He looked up and across the shelves and caught sight of Hector who had a book in each hand with his nose buried in them both.

Trevor laid his head back down and shut his eyes. Sleep came to him immediately and he was snoring in seconds.

Sleep came to him so fast in fact, that he never noticed the giant black spectre that formed behind him and knocked the flickering candle over, igniting the stack of open books on the table.


	4. Scorn

Trevor wasn’t sure if it was the shout of his name that woke him up or the heat of the flames that caught on the fur of his vambrace. Whichever it was, he was startled out of sleep next to a fire spreading in front of his face and licking at his hands.

_“Sh..shit!”_

He shoved off the table and fell backwards, chair and all, to the floor. Scrambling, he kicked the seat away and then rolled over his arms to smother the flames. _Thank fucking god_ it worked because the whole tabletop in front of him was alight by the time he’d saved himself from being maimed completely. His fingers definitely felt burned, but he’d had enough run-ins with fire to know that feeling pain from a burn was a whole lot better than feeling nothing so he counted his blessings. Not that he had time to think about his hands when embers started jumping. He looked around frantically for something to quell the blaze.

Hector yelled from somewhere behind him that he was coming with help, but whatever it was he was coming with was going to be too little and too late. This wasn’t the castle and there were no magic spigots spewing water at a touch. Luckily, he spotted a thick tapestry on the wall nearby so he rushed over, yanked it down and did his best to tamp down the burning books. He tried to clear out everything potentially flamable so nothing else would catch but _jesus fucking christ_ everything in the hold was dry parchment and wood. They were in a fucking tinderbox.

Trevor started to panic. He was the last fucking Belmont. He was the Belmont who made his dead family into accursed zombies. And now he would be the Belmont who destroyed centuries of knowledge because he _fucking fell asleep._ And he was also the Belmont who would live to see his legacy go up in flames, _twice._

There would be no redemption from this. So what if he was sleeping with Dracula’s son? That was nothing. A footnote in the catalogue of his sins. He’d just set fire to the single most comprehensive defense strategy humanity had against the darkness. He should jump in the flames and give himself over to satan right now.

“Belmont, _move!”_ Hector shouted at him again. The man rushed forward, as much as someone can rush while dragging a huge barrel behind them.

“Help me!” Hector made to lift the thing and Trevor ran to assist. Together they upended the entire contents of the barrel, a white powder of some kind, on the table and right atop the flames. They dumped out gallons of the stuff and it plumed in great clouds all around. Trevor coughed and sputtered as the particles in the air mixed with the acrid smoke entering his lungs.

Quicker than Trevor could have dared hope, the fire was quenched, leaving nothing but a mess of blackened books, white powder and ash.

Hector exhaled loudly, dropped the barrel and dropped to the floor in relief. Trevor collapsed right down with him, too stunned to speak.

 _“Fuck.”_ Hector breathed out. “Are you alright?”

Trevor sat there, stunned and speechless. His hands hurt but he could still move them, thankfully, so he rested them in his lap.

“I...yeah. I’m alright. _Holy shit._ I can’t believe…” Trevor couldn’t believe his luck. “I think you just saved my ass _and_ my soul.”

“Well, I owed you that much at least. You’re fortunate I was still nearby. You were dead asleep.”

Trevor blinked away the crust from the corners of his eyes. “I must have...knocked over the candle? Or it must have fallen? I don’t know… _damn.”_ Trevor shook his head, still in disbelief. He wasn’t a heavy sleeper usually. _Because he was too used to shit like this happening._ He’d woken up enough times a hair’s breadth from death at the hands of one thing or another and this certainly wasn’t the first time that thing was fire.

Hector dusted himself off and stood to inspect the damage.

“What is this stuff?” Trevor asked as he blew a puff of air up to knock the powder from his nose.

“I’d say it’s a sign of your family’s attention to detail. It’s a chemical that can smother fires. Dracula used to keep stockpiles of it in the castle. Until now, that's the only place I've ever seen it, but there are several barrels scattered around down here. It’s an excellent way to protect against a fire spreading without causing water damage.”

Hector looked sadly at the charred remains of the books on the table. “Unfortunately though, it looks like your father’s bestiaries are unsalvageable. It doesn’t seem like the fates are on our side today.”

“Yeah, well, the fates and I have a complicated love-hate thing going, the fickle harpies. _Ow!”_ Trevor grunted and winced as he tried to stand by pushing off the floor with his hands, forgetting about his burns.

He sat back down and Hector crouched beside him. “Are you injured? Let me help you get these off.”

He let Hector undo his singed vambraces. It wasn’t too bad, but holding his weapons would smart for a while. Hector gingerly tried to pick some of the fur off that was stuck to his skin.

“Sorry, Belmont, this may hur…” Hector inhaled sharply and released Trevor’s hands.

“What? It’s not so bad. I’ve had worse burns than this…” But then Trevor noticed what arrested Hector’s speech and his own words caught in his throat. He looked down at the burns, not quite believing what was happening.

Right before his eyes, his hands were healing.

The patchy, scorched red color receded, leaving only healthy, unmarred pink. The skin that had already started to peel away, _grew back together._ The pain rapidly subsided, then disappeared completely. It took maybe less than a minute. Less than a minute to shake the foundations of what Trevor thought was his existence.

 _“God almighty.”_ He whispered as he turned his hands over and around in front of his eyes, and Hector’s. “Are you...did you…”

Hector didn’t meet his stupefied gaze. He looked down instead. “I saw it Belmont.” He said softly and then he turned away.

“I...this isn’t…” Trevor started breathing faster, unable to take his eyes away from his hands. He’d been asleep. Surely this was still a dream. His dreams were so real now with Adrian in his head. Any moment, a wolf with gold eyes would sneak up on him, nudge his hand for a pat and they’d both wake up, in their bed together.

He wasn’t burned. He didn’t heal. This wasn’t real. _It couldn’t be real..._

 _“Did you do something?”_ Trevor rounded on Hector, not knowing what else to say or how else to react. Thoughts and feelings bubbled up so quickly inside him he didn’t understand how to manage them and he didn't know what to do with them. Hector’s face was hidden behind the waves of his pale hair as he continued to look down at the floor. “Did you heal my hands with some sort of fucked up magic without even asking? _Did you, you bastard?!”_

“I didn’t.” Hector looked him in the eyes and answered simply and honestly, seeming unsurprised by the accusation. “But I think you know that already.”

_What the hell did he mean by that? What in the hell was happening?_

In stupidity and confusion Trevor just kept looking at his hands, flexing his fingers and clenching his fists as if making sure they were actually his. He touched his face, ran his knuckles across his lips and the smooth backs of them along his cheeks.

The smooth backs of them. Unblemished. _And scarless._

His rapidly crumbling world fell away completely. _There were no scars on his hands._ No new burns and no old ones. No scratches or scrapes. And no faded whiplash from his boyhood, the first lesson on being a Belmont, gifted to him from his father long gone. That was gone too. And Hector was right. He knew this wasn’t the work of any devil forgemaster.

Trevor bit the inside of his cheeks until he tasted blood, holding in an infuriated shout.

_Fucking blood. How could he have been so blind!_

“Where is it?” Trevor seethed as he stood and looked down at Hector where he was still crouched on the floor. “The mirror. I know there’s a goddamned mirror down here. _Where is it?”_

Hector rose and silently led him across the library to the half shattered distance mirror his family had tossed in a corner, never presuming it would be used to invite Dracula’s castle onto their lands. Trevor kicked away the piles of scrolls and books and other shit surrounding it so he could get a better look at himself. He stripped off his tunic and tried to find a view not obscured by the cracked glass.

He studied his reflection, wide-eyed and unblinking. The whiplash scar on his hand was the only bad one that was completely gone, but now that he was _fucking paying attention_ he could see plain as fucking day that all the rest of them were fading.

How long had it been since he’d looked at his own face? The scar over his eye remained, but it was visibly less jagged, thinner and not nearly as long as the day he’d acquired it with pride. The gash from the wound an enthralled Hector had inflicted with his cursed knife was nothing but a faint line of discolored skin now. And the tear on his shoulder from the happy memory of getting fucked up against the side of a barn, was a pale speck overlying smooth muscle.

When he finally stopped hoping it wasn’t true, that this wasn’t a fucked-up, blood-drunk dream, he sat on the floor, and just stared at the stranger staring back at him. He felt naked. Stripped bare. But it had nothing to do with his shirt crumpled nearby and everything to do with how vulnerable he’d allowed himself to become, floating on a heady cloud of comfort and pleasure, feeling too good and too happy to care about anything at all. And all while he was being changed into... _into what?_ He’d earned those scars. They’d made him who he was. If they were gone, then what was he now?

He even looked younger. The scowl lines around his mouth, that came to him so easily after so many years carving themselves in deep during each and every fight he’d ever gotten into, were barely there anymore. And the age lines gracing his eyes, that he’d won after so many years on his own, were now as non-existent as Adrian’s.

It was the blood. It had to be. It was Adrian’s blood that did this to him, _was doing this_ to him. There was no way in hell Adrian hadn’t known all along that this was happening and he hadn’t said a damn word.

 _“Did you fucking know about this?”_ He demanded of the quiet Hector, who’d done nothing but stand and watch as Trevor’s very identity shattered like the mirror in front of him. He’d been doing nothing but watching all along and keeping Adrian’s secrets like the good little general he was. “What is he doing to me?”

“As I said before, Belmont, you should talk to Alucard.”

“I’m talking to _you_ right now. And I am asking if you fucking knew about _Alucard_ doing this to me. Not that I think you give a shit about being human. Do you think _I_ don’t care? Does _he_ think I don’t _fucking_ care?”

Trevor knew he wouldn’t get an answer. There were no answers to those questions that Hector could give to assuage him. But he found he had to speak them, get them out. If he tried to keep them inside, they’d boil over anyway.

Hector’s lips thinned and he met Trevor’s gaze. He stared back intently and didn’t shrink away from the pointless confrontation Trevor had forced on him.

“I already told you, he asked me to study your bloodline.” Hector started, steady and calm. “You’re a _Belmont,_ you know more than anyone about vampirism. So you should know that what we both just saw happen to you isn’t _normal._ I have no idea what it means that your skin is able to heal itself and I seriously doubt Alucard has any idea either if he asked me to look into it for him down here. And yet you’re quick to blame him when, in fact, it’s clear _your_ family is hiding something. That index over there isn’t presented in any sort of logical order.” He pointed accusingly at the lectern at the center of the hold. “I’ve found sealed rooms I can’t get into, entire shelves behind cages locked with iron chains, texts written in languages even Alucard hasn’t seen before. This place is a maze of misdirection and subterfuge. And then there’s the books disappearing I told you about earlier. And now fires starting themselves and destroying only the tomes we wanted to look at? Is any of that _‘normal’?_ I’d think long and hard about that question _before_ you speak with your lover if I were you, Belmont.”

Trevor bit his tongue and took his medicine without comment because all of it was true. If only Hector was finished. He took a breath and kept on going.

“Who’s to say this isn’t what your Belmont blood is meant to do? Who’s to say by giving yourself to Dracula’s son, this isn’t a curse brought down upon you by the so-called god your family fought in the name of. _Who is to say any of this is Alucard’s fault?_ And I’ll tell you another thing, Belmont, since we’re being frank. If he really wanted to turn you or truly control you, he could do it in an instant. Do not think for a moment that any other vampire wouldn’t have done exactly that if they had so much as a passing whim to do so.”

Hector paused then, red rising up into his face. He lowered his voice, but even so, it cracked with emotion. “Your clan may know things about vampires, Belmont, but I _belonged_ to them. And _I_ know Alucard is _not_ one of them. No one put a collar around your neck to keep you in his bed, so whatever wrong you think he’s done you, spare me your whining and go fucking talk to him.”

Hector threw his hands up and walked away in disgust. The silence he left behind was so deafening Trevor’s ears rang. It was the first time he’d ever heard Hector bring up his past with Carmilla. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to absorb any of it though. Or even think about it. Or think about what to do next. He was angry, that’s all he knew, but when he thought of Adrian, when he closed his eyes and _felt him_ inside his chest, that anger twisted and turned itself right back around.

Would any of this matter if he was a normal human or would he take his love and consider himself lucky, like Adrian’s mother? What the hell did being a Belmont mean now anyway? That he was the keeper of a name and a legacy of death? Was that worth more than what he’d discovered he could be with Adrian? _Happy._

Trevor sat for a long while, his chin in his hands, avoiding staring at his reflection. He didn’t know where Hector went. And he didn’t care. He didn’t know where Adrian was. And he didn’t care. He didn’t know who Trevor Belmont was anymore. And maybe he didn’t care about that either.

Eventually, not knowing what else to do, he did what he always seemed to default to and he tried to feel out where Adrian was. He could usually find him in the castle just by thinking about him but he couldn’t quite get a hold on him now. Not that he was sure if he wanted to talk or not, despite Hector’s whole scathing speech. What the hell would he say?

_‘I know I asked for this, but I’m pissed anyway.’_

_‘I know who you are, but I didn’t care, because it felt too good, so I drank your blood anyway.’_

_‘I know I’m a Belmont, but I jumped in your bed anyway?’_

_‘How dare you be who you are?’_

He didn’t want to say any of that and even if he searched all the places in the castle he knew about from top to bottom, there were countless places in the keep he’d never been, places that Adrian had never taken him too. There were laboratories that he was sure housed the horrors of Dracula’s experimentations, dungeons where skeletons rotted away to dust across the centuries, the souls attached to them left languishing in the darkness, and deeper places, darker places, where vampires once slept, where vampires were once made. If Adrian didn’t want to be found in those places, Trevor certainly wouldn’t be able to find him, despite their bond.

And thinking of all those places brought to mind the fact that Trevor had been sleeping and eating and fucking and living it up right in the middle of it all, all as he was being slowly turned into...something. Whatever it was, it was something he never asked for.

He was no damn hypocrite. He’d killed humans, befriended monsters, _he fell in love with Dracula’s son._ He’d never judge what anyone was if they minded their own fucking business and let everyone else mind theirs. Because not caring was _his choice._ But that choice was taken from him by the one person he thought understood him.

_If Adrian had just asked him…_

If he’d asked, what would he have said? How would he have responded? He’d told Adrian outright once that he’d often dreamed of being anyone but who he was. Most of the time, that meant he wanted to be a normal dumbass human with no dubious combat skills, no knowledge of the underworld and no relationship with hell’s denizens. The easy, ignorant path.

What he hadn’t told Adrian was that sometimes he would dream he was something else. Just a hunter, cosetted in darkness without any expectation of some inner, higher moral compass, pulling and tugging him in one direction or another. Just as easy and just as ignorant, driven by simple needs and pure emotion. Eat and kill and sleep. It didn’t get any more pure than that.

But that didn’t mean he wanted to be a vampire. If that’s what he was somehow becoming?

 _Jesus fucking christ,_ nothing was ever easy.

Evening was coming soon. Vampires would be knocking on their door. And nothing that Trevor just learned would get sorted out before that happened.

He stood and had no idea what he was going to do next. Which was pretty much how it had always been ever since the first time he walked away from this place after a fire.

Without really thinking about it, he pulled out his Morning Star and shattered the mirror in front of him to pieces with it. Glass, frame, magic runes and all. It wasn’t as cathartic as he’d hoped. His reflection disappeared as he wailed at the thing. Shards flew out and cut at his face and chest. When it was nothing but debris on the floor, he walked away with his lacerations. He was sweating and breathless after the destruction he caused, but he didn’t need a mirror to tell him the tiny cuts were already healing themselves.

~

Vlad’s voice disappeared and left Adrian alone in darkness. He thought he would wake in the castle’s sub basements, enclosed in a coffin, but when he opened his eyes this time, he was in the Belmont hold.

Truth be told, he _hated_ the fucking place. He’d never outright said that to Trevor, and he greatly respected the knowledge held there, but he hated it all the same. As his father had said so forthrightly, though Adrian hadn’t quite wanted to acknowledge it aloud, least of all in Trevor’s presence, the whole place stunk of hypocrisy. It stunk of everything Trevor wasn’t. The man he loved was as honest and open as any human, any being, he’d ever known. Trevor was better than this place. Better than his name.

Adrian wandered through the shelves and wondered why he was here. Despite the fact that his father had apparently held an open invitation for tea to the Belmonts across their generations, he knew Vlad had never been to this place, so this couldn’t be a dream constructed by him. And though he initially doubted Trevor was asleep and dreaming deeply enough to pull him here, it appeared he was wrong when he saw him sitting at a table several shelves away, writing in a large book.

Adrian smiled to himself and approached, but as he got closer, he slowed his steps. The man he thought was Trevor was too broad and too tall. His hair was shorter and he felt... _different._

Just as Adrian stopped, wary now and staring at the stranger’s back, the other man shut the book he was working in, set down his quill and spoke without turning around.

“He’s all that’s left of us.”

Adrian’s mouth fell open, but he didn’t respond. The man’s voice sounded exactly like Trevor’s. Adrian closed his mouth and held his breath.

“I wanted to tell him. It was my duty to tell him. I thought I’d have more time, but then it was too late.”

“Tell... _Trevor?”_ Adrian asked as he advanced cautiously towards the person who was obviously a Belmont. He had no idea how another Belmont had entered his dreams, but that was a drop in the bucket of all the mysteries that haunted him. “Tell Trevor _what?”_ He dared.

“Stop where you are, vampire.” The other Belmont ordered and Adrian stopped. The man still didn’t turn around. “I know who you are, and _what_ you are to my son.”

 _Fucking gods above._ The figure before him was Trevor’s father. Adrian swallowed hard. This was one too many fathers he’d had to speak with in one day, in what was fast becoming one _fucking horrible_ dream. He took two steps backwards and remained silent.

When nothing happened and nothing more was said for a long while, Adrian almost turned right around and left, the possibility of a prophetic dream be damned, but then Trevor’s father sighed and rested his head in his hands. When he spoke again, it was softer.

“I would do _anything_ for that boy.” He said as a preamble to apparently nothing and Adrian almost left again after another long pause, but then he continued. “It’s too late now, though. There was no way he could have known. He thought he was doing the right thing. Because he’s a fucking Belmont. And the best of us at that.”

Then, before Adrian could even blink, he turned to face him. _And dear fucking hellfire,_ he was Trevor’s spitting image. He was clean shaven, with eyes more grey than blue, but there was no mistaking who in the family Trevor took after.

“You’re the only hope he has left.” The elder Belmont’s statement was almost a plea. And then he did plead outright. _“You have to turn him._ Turn him now. Before he’s lost. _Please.”_

 _“What?”_ Adrian was aghast. He couldn’t even hide his shock. His own father telling him to make Trevor a vampire was a thing so obvious as to be cliche. But this was _Trevor’s_ father. “I...how can... _do you know what you’re saying?”_

Adrian didn’t even know what he was saying any longer. This was madness. He needed to go. He needed to leave this dream and find Trevor. He would find him and tell him everything. He’d been such a fool. The two of them only had each other. What in the hell was he doing keeping secrets? The world was a madhouse and it would never leave them be. The only way they would survive was together. With nothing kept hidden between them. Whatever was happening, they would sort through it, or fight through it, _together._ They didn’t need their fathers’, or anyone else’s, interference or advice.

Adrian turned and started walking away. He couldn’t be in this hold any longer, vampire skulls staring down at him and Trevor’s sire, _of all fucking people,_ demanding these things of him. He had to leave.

The other Belmont didn’t hold him back, but he did shout after him. “If you love him you will heed my warning, Adrian Tepes, son of Dracula!”

Adrian walked faster. Trevor’s father only shouted louder. “We wronged him! I wronged him as I was wronged and I was too stupid, too slow and too late to change the Belmont fate, _the Belmont curse! Please, do what I could not. Save him, turn him so he will be yours and not…”_

Adrian woke shaking and sweating. He groped in the darkness, pushing and kicking the lid of the coffin until he was free. He sat up, as breathless as if he’d fought off the devil himself.

He needed to go to Trevor. He needed to tell him everything, beg his forgiveness and hope it wasn’t too late. Even if neither one of them understood yet what ‘too late’ really meant.


	5. Guilt

Trevor walked outside into what could only be described as a stand off. 

The sun had just set when he trekked up from the hold and exited the partially re-built manor. The stone golems were nothing but inanimate statues now, lined up in rows against the walls. The air was humid and warm. It felt like rain was coming. Or maybe it was a shitstorm that was coming. That seemed more likely.

No less than twenty vampires were standing right in the middle of the estate’s unkempt lawn and they were engaged in a staring contest with an equal number of undead Belmonts. It was like something out of someone’s nightmare. Maybe not Trevor’s. But someone’s. The Belmont’s had apparently left the hold but whether it was simply to get some fresh air or to make a night of it and kill some vampires too, Trevor couldn’t quite say. He certainly hadn’t called them, or asked them to conduct any executions in the Belmont name. Either way, it was obvious he had no control over them despite Hector’s original claims otherwise.

The vampires didn’t move, but they did avert their collective gaze away from the Belmont demons to look at Trevor when they noticed him. He wasn’t in the mood for vampires. He wasn’t in the mood for anything besides some food and perhaps a bit more sulking. He definitely at least needed food before he inevitably went to find Adrian. They had a lot to talk about. Or yell about. Or forget about in favor of ignorant bliss and blissful fucking until the world and all the black magic in it didn’t matter anymore. He hadn’t decided which of those things he’d push for yet. What he did decide quickly, was that avoidance was the better part of valor in the situation at hand.

So, Trevor gave each of the vampires in turn his best _do not fuck with me right now_ look and then he made his way across the yard towards the castle. He confronted no one, but he held his head high and his Morning Star in hand. 

A few of them curled their lips up at him, showing off their fangs. _As if_ that _bothered him._ A few others hissed and narrowed their eyes as he passed, but none stepped out of line. On the contrary, in fact, the ones in his way parted, giving him a wide berth. Giving him a wide berth in addition to the flanking Belmonts who had silently come to escort him the whole way like an honor guard from hell.

When he made it to the front doors of the castle, they opened before he could open them himself and Hector emerged. He took silent stock of the situation, stepped aside so Trevor could enter and nodded his head in deference as Trevor passed.

Trevor rolled his eyes at the farce. “Come to invite our guests for breakfast tomorrow? Not that we’ll be offering them anything to eat.” He gestured at the blood-hungry mob. 

“I’ll be extending Lord Alucard’s invitation as planned, unless you say otherwise, sir.” Hector replied.

Trevor looked at him, then looked out at the vampires, their pointy little ears perked up and listening intently. 

_More blasted playacting._

“Whatever.” Trevor waved his hand dismissively. “I’m pissed and I’m starving.”

“I’ll find you inside when I finish here then, sir.” Hector said, his voice low and deliberate. That ‘sir’ sounded less like a designation of respect and more like a: _‘Don’t go far, Belmont.’_

 _Whatever._ Trevor repeated in his head as he walked inside. The castle was cool and dark and he let Hector close the door behind him. He supposed he could have stayed to hear the fancy speech Hector had likely prepared for the vampires. He supposed he could have objected and stopped this show they were all putting on in its tracks before it even got going, but where would that leave them? In the same place they started, perched on a cliff, the night horde at their backs, a dark abyss full of unknowns and a freefall at their feet.

Trevor wandered down to the kitchens, his steps dragging and his heart heavy. He hadn’t felt this lost in months. Not since before he met Adrian actually. What bullshit irony that was. In a lot of ways Adrian had been his savior. His own personal vampire Jesus. He had a home now, he was loved now, he had something to look forward to and things to enjoy. And all it would cost him to keep this life was his humanity. 

If he really weighed his alternatives, though maybe it was a small price to pay. What had humans ever done for him but contribute to his struggles? What had _being_ a human ever meant to him but pain and disappointment?

Whatever Adrian was doing to him, illicit or otherwise, he’d never felt more cherished than in that damn asshole’s arms. He never felt safer or more at home. Was that all a lie? It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. He knew Hector was right. If Adrian really wanted to force this on him, to turn him into a vampire or truly enthrall him, he could do it in the blink of a golden eye. He was the goddamn son of Dracula. He was a fucking immortal hybrid vampire who could walk in the fucking sun. It was entirley possible that Adrian was the most perfectly crafted fucking creature on God’s fucking earth.

And that perfect fucking creature had somehow chosen to spend his days and nights with _Trevor Belmont._ Of all people. Of all _humans._

For fuck’s sake, Trevor was the first man Adrian had let _fuck_ him. _A lot._ And Trevor had certainly given the man more than enough opportunities to steal his soul. So why did it feel like such a betrayal that some fucked up magic floating around in Adrian’s blood was at work on him?

All those fucking questions, and all the fucking _feelings_ that went along with them made Trevor’s head hurt. And it made his stomach growl. 

He finally arrived down at the main kitchen, and thank the fucking heavens there was already food on the table. He immediately sat down and tucked in. It felt good to be eating. It felt like a very human thing to do if nothing else, but he also felt uncomfortable in his own skin, as he sat at the table, in this place that was more a home to him than the one he was born in across the way. He tried to ignore those feelings by stuffing more food in his face and he stared into the fire. 

It felt strange eating alone. This was where the three of them usually took their meals. It was funny really that he’d gotten so used to company. Such company as could be had here. He’d gotten used to sitting with friends and eating at a table. And _talking._ Well, Hector and Adrian would talk...and talk, _and talk_ about whatever scientific or mystical nonsense that happened to be capturing their attention at any given moment like magpies on a shiny. 

Trevor would mostly just watch them while he ate and drank his fill. And he’d listen to the sound of Adrian’s voice, that deep, hypnotic monotone. His attention would wane from the conversation and he’d think about how that voice sounded when it wasn’t so controlled, and he wasn’t so imposing, when Trevor was inside him, pretty entreaties spilling off his pretty lips, vicious fangs bared just beneath them, _‘harder Trevor, faster Trevor, more Trevor, more…’_

And then they’d move from their meal in the kitchen to Adrian’s real meal in their bedroom. They’d be all over each other, and it was always so good. _So fucking good._

Why did anything have to change? Why couldn’t they just go on like that? Adrian who he was, and Trevor who he was, perfect dhampir and imperfect human.

“If you die, Belmont, what exactly do you think will happen?”

Out of apparently nowhere Hector threw the question down like a gauntlet. He’d snuck up behind him at some point and was now glaring down his nose with his arms crossed over his chest. The man was deft when he needed to be. Trevor imagined a necromancer would learn quickly how to conceal his presence and keep to the shadows whether or not he was enslaved by vampires.

Trevor glanced at him but then turned back to his food. “What are you talking about?” He mumbled.

“You shouldn’t be around the vampires without Alucard nearby. It was good your family escorted you from the manor. _They_ at least seem to have some common sense and an instinct to preserve your life, even if you don’t.”

 _“Jesus Christ,_ I’m not helpless. Why the hell is this something I have to keep saying? I’ve killed that many vampires drunk with just my boot knife. You think I needed my family to protect me out there?” Trevor protested sourly. “They’re the fucking dead ones. I’m the one still alive and kicking.”

Hector huffed out impatient breaths and Trevor wondered if his interactions with the vampires just now had put him on edge. 

“Do you not remember how we all got here, Belmont? If anything happens to you, what on earth do you think could stop Alucard from…” Hector’s sentence drifted off. He was probably reluctant to make comparisons.

Trevor was not so reluctant. He shrugged stubbornly. “Nothing I suppose. But then I’ll be dead, so I won’t give a shit if he murders everyone, now will I?”

Hector rubbed his eyes and sighed. “You really are an asshole, Belmont. I refuse to believe you care so little. I’ve seen first hand what he appears to mean to you and I think you care a great deal about what would happen to him in your absence despite this crisis of faith you’re having. _Which we don’t have time to indulge right now._ Have you even seen Alucard yet? We need to find him.”

“Haven’t seen him and can’t say I was looking. You find him.” Trevor wasn’t done being stubborn. In the absence of annoying the balls off Adrian, Hector served almost as well. 

“Fucking hell, Belmont, stop being a child!” He finally shouted.

Trevor turned around and eyed him suspiciously. “I’ll stop being a child if you stop being Sypha.” 

Hector smirked and a chill ran down Trevor’s spine. “I’ll let her know you said that, Belmont.”

Trevor decided not to ask how exactly Hector would let her know or why in god’s name the two of them shared tattletale level communications. The last thing he needed was one more person nagging him. 

Hector changed his tone then and got back on task. “Have you been down to the castle’s sub-basements before? Or anywhere below the dungeon level?”

Trevor shook his head. “I’ve never even been down to the dungeons. Why in the hell would I want to go down there?”

“Because I can’t find Alucard anywhere else and I believe that’s where he may be. It’s where his father…” 

Again Hector drifted off at the parallel, but he didn’t need to continue. Trevor knew what he meant and it explained why he still hadn’t been able to get a feel on where Adrian was. He knew Adrian well enough to know that he wouldn’t particularly want Trevor seeing him come out of a coffin again and it made sense that he'd be somewhere like that, ‘preparing’ for what was to come by sleeping as a vampire, uninterrupted.

Hector continued. “I can tell you how to get down there. It should be you who wakes him. It worries me that he didn’t wake up on his own when the sun set. Will you go?”

Trevor pushed back from the table but didn’t make another move.

He could hear Hector frowning behind him. “You’re not drunk are you?”

 _“Drunk?”_ Trevor laughed at the absurdity. “Of course I’m not fucking drunk! I’d like nothing more than to be drunk right now, but if I get drunk, so does he and we can’t really afford for him to be drunk while he fucking holds court with a bunch of vampires who’d like to see me dead, now can we?”

There was a bottle of Hector’s meade on the table. In another admittedly childish fit, he picked it up and hurled it into the fire. Glass shattered against the hearth and the flames reared up throwing embers everywhere. Not that fire could hurt him now. Hector said nothing and just waited. Childish fits aside, he knew Trevor would eventually go.

And Trevor knew it too, so he finally stood. It was high time he learned all the things about Adrian that he’d been willfully ignoring. 

He wasn’t sure if finding where he kept his coffin was a start or if they’d simply come full circle.

~

In the scramble to escape his dreams so he could go to Trevor, Adrian wasn’t prepared to look up and see the man standing right there in the crypt.

He rose from his father’s coffin, an echo of their first meeting, and blinked his eyes against the glow of Trevor’s torchlight. 

“Trevor...why are you _here?”_ The question itself was another echo from their past. When before it had been a demand, Adrian hadn’t meant for it to sound as such now. He tried to soften his intent, but Trevor spoke first. 

“You look like you saw a ghost.” He said quietly and he leaned back against the wall, one of his legs bent up, bracing his foot on the stone. 

“Two, in fact.” Adrian whispered but he stopped at that statement. Something was wrong. There was something about Trevor’s posture, his voice, his demeanor. Even with the familiar feeling of him in the air, the physical and the metaphysical presence of him strong and imposing, he seemed distant and guarded as they stared at one another. 

When Trevor didn’t ask him to elaborate, instead just standing there, Adrian held his breath. He was getting the impression that this wasn’t a conversation he would be directing. Trevor was here for a reason. And it wasn’t because he fell down a hole. 

Trevor eventually jerked his head at the entryway, open to the narrow corridor beyond. 

“That magic door let me in.”

The darkened blue of the man’s eyes in the dim light pinned Adrian down. He felt buried more surely than when he’d been in the coffin. It only remained for him to see how deeply he was entombed. Something had clearly happened while he’d been oblivious and tucked away in his dreams to change the tenor of their interactions since only this morning. 

“Took me forever to find this place.” Trevor continued as if it were the most casual thing in the world to be chatting about directions in a vampire crypt. “Then I finally got here and it was just a dead end and a wall with runes on it. I almost left but for some reason it occured to me to touch it. To be honest, I wasn’t all that surprised when the runes lit up and the door opened.”

Trevor pushed off the wall and stepped towards him. He looked right in his eyes and Adrian wished he could look away from what he saw there, _pain and doubt and betrayal,_ but this was the grave he dug for himself.

“The magic door opened for me, Adrian. And it wasn’t a Belmont magic door. It was _Dracula’s_ magic door. Why would it do that? _What does it think I am?”_

Adrian’s mouth fell open helplessly and his gut knotted up. 

 _He knows he’s different._  

Words came out of Adrian’s mouth, but they were nothing more than empty reassurances. Too little and too late. 

“It doesn’t think you’re anything, Trevor. It’s just a door.”

“A door that sensed our bond? Or a door that sensed your blood in me? Or did it sense something else?”

 _Why is he drawing this out?_  

Adrian knew where this was all going and since there was no holding it back any longer, he wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.

“Why are you asking me these things?” He knew this was his fault, but they didn’t have the time to prolong his torture. He’d been wrong. Terribly wrong. He knew it, but he also knew they needed to focus their energies on the dangers looming. He needed to tell Trevor of the dreams he had with their fathers, they needed to expose the enemies that were hiding in the darkness. Adrian needed to destroy whatever nameless thing was threatening them, _threatening Trevor,_ in whatever way he needed to, even if that meant Trevor hated him afterwards for it. 

Adrian clenched his fists and tried to continue. “You already know my blood can…”

But Trevor cut him off. “Is your blood changing me? Are _you_ changing me?”

Adrian closed his eyes. He couldn’t meet Trevor’s gaze any longer. “We should go upstairs first. We shouldn’t talk about this _here.”_

Trevor forced Adrian’s eyes back open when he came closer and touched his shoulder. Slowly, so painfully slowly and tenderly, he drew his fingers up along Adrian’s neck and into his hair. It wasn’t a touch meant to pull or tug or demand anything. It was just a cradle at the back of Adrian’s head that served to bring their eyes together again and make Adrian’s heart beat faster.

“Why the hell not, Adrian?” Trevor countered, his tone flat, his expression more so. “If this is what I have to look forward to, then it’s the perfect fucking place to talk about it.”

His brutal honesty was crushing but not because of any anger or force in the statement. It was crushing because of the sad inevitability in it. Trevor sounded as he once did. When they first met, when he had no greater expectations of life than hardship. When he was contented by nothing more than a nap and breakfast and being alive because that was the best he could hope for. And it crushed Adrian to hear it, knowing he was the cause. 

“Then say what you’re going to say.” Ultimately, Trevor was right. 

“There was a fire in the hold.” He said and then thankfully expounded before Adrian could react. “It was small, everything’s fine, it was just a stupid accident probably. Hector thinks otherwise though. But my hands...”

Trevor pulled his hand from Adrian’s hair and stepped back. He stared at it as if he was still in disbelief about something. Then he decided to demonstrate.

“See for yourself.” He said, and before Adrian could stop him, Trevor shoved his hand into the flame of his torch. Adrian shot forward and grabbing him by the wrist to yank him away, but the damage was already done. 

Trevor’s face twisted and he grit his teeth against the pain of the self-inflicted burn. “Watch.” He commanded, and he opened his palm in front of Adrian’s face. The burn quickly disappeared and Trevor could see that Adrian wasn’t surprised by the miracle of healing. 

 _“You knew.”_ Trevor pulled his hand out of Adrian’s grasp and backed away. 

Adrian had nothing to say for himself. 

Trevor slowly turned and started pacing. The torchlight traveled back and forth with him, shadows dancing in his wake. Adrian could sense the pulse of Trevor’s racing heart and he could feel the weight of the man’s racing thoughts as he collected himself before coming back around to speak again. He repeated the accusation, each syllable a turn of the knife in Adrian’s heart.

 _“You already knew._ I can see it in your eyes. You knew this would happen. Or did you make it happen on purpose? Which is it?”

Adrian’s answer reeked of defensiveness but he felt too much pressure to explain to consider what he said more carefully. 

“Trevor, I warned you explicitly before you made the choice to take my blood and since that day I have told you a hundred times if I’ve told you once: I know nothing more now than I knew then. The consequences of you and I sharing blood were and are still a mystery to me. I swear, I did nothing to intentionally _change_ you.”

“You’re lying.” Trevor spit back. 

“I would never…” Adrian stopped. He wanted to say, _I would never lie to you,_ but he had lied to him. So many times. 

“I say again,” He restarted. “I did nothing to intentionally change you, Trevor. And I never would, whether you choose to believe me or not.” 

And then it was his turn to reach out and cradle Trevor’s head in his hands. Trevor stiffened at first but then he exhaled a tense breath and tossed his torch down onto the cracked floor. The light dimmed even more as the flame fought to stay alive against the stone and dirt. Trevor’s face was nothing more than a shadow as he stepped forward, nestling himself into Adrian’s palm and relaxing into Adrian’s fingertips.

“I swear I would not have done this deliberately, love. _I swear.”_ Adrian declared with as much conviction as he could now that Trevor was listening. “But if you are asking me something else. If you are asking me what I _want. What I wish._ What my heart desires that is beyond my control then, _yes._ I would change you if I could. If you would let me. I would make you mine so no other could have you. I would make you eternal so you would always be with me. I would change you and remake you into an immortal. I would steal you from the hands of god and the devil both if I had to, consequences be damned.”

Trevor tried to turn away but Adrian’s fist had come to tighten in his hair, possessive and determined. He quickly loosened his grip and stepped back. 

“I...I’m sorry, Trevor. I owe you the truth. And it is that. I knew you were changing and I should have stopped it. I should have stopped you from taking any more of my blood but I...I couldn’t.” 

The flood gates were open now and all the words, the intentions, the sorry regrets Adrian couldn’t admit previously poured forth.

“I know what each of your scars cost you and though I know you value them, I wished I could erase the pain of them. In watching them slowly disappear I saw you become... _whole_. I saw the stitched together broken pieces of you heal. If, by my blood, it were possible for you to exist untouched and unaffected by the trials of life and time that would eventually take you from me, how could I resist that? So I let it happen and I said nothing.”

Trevor didn’t respond and Adrian wanted to walk away. He wanted to go upstairs and breathe the night air, see the sky and escape this oppressive guilt. He almost wanted Trevor to be more angry, to lash out at him, with hateful words or blessed weapons. Something to make these feelings into a tangible pain and not this awful hurt silence.

Trevor rolled his shoulders and ran his hands through his own hair. Adrian almost thought he would be the one to leave but then he sighed and sat right down on the ground instead. He crossed his legs and rested his chin in one hand, elbow on his knee. He looked past Adrian at the coffin. 

“What if I’d never noticed? What if _years_ went by and I never noticed?”

Adrian wasn’t sure what else to do, so he sat down as well. The torch gave off only a muted glow now, not enough to illuminate what Trevor was thinking. And certainly not enough to shed light on how Adrian should answer to make things better. So he decided to be honest. 

“If you marked the time as it passed, you would have eventually learned what was happening on your own. I think I’ve stolen some of your age as well as having healed your scars. Though it is impossible to say how many years my blood has erased.”

“Yeah. Noticed that too.” Trevor said. “We have _two_ shattered distance mirrors now by the way. I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if I was your age again. Or younger. You couldn’t call me old anymore at least.”

It was unsurprising that Trevor was trying to deflect, but minimizing this was both foolish and dangerous. No longer could they afford to live so heedlessly.

“The strict count of years since the day of my birth are irrelevant. I am ageless, Trevor. If I were to turn you into a vampire, you would be ageless as well. If we continue on this same path, you may not be a vampire, but nor can I say you will be entirely human. What you are now, what you would become if you simply kept taking my blood...again...I do not know. I do not know if anything that has happened up to this point could be reversed but I...I…” Adrian’s breath hitched and he swallowed to try and steady his stuttering. “I would ask that you not force me to find a way to reverse it yet. For now though...” He stopped again. He didn’t want any answers right away. No final word. He just wanted to leave this damn basement with an understanding. Pandora’s box was open but he needed to shut the lid and leave some small bit of hope inside. This was Trevor’s decision, whatever that may be and whenever he chose to make it. Adrian wished he could trust himself to respect that, but he knew his heart and he knew he would not be able to hold back his unconscious yearning. “We must not exchange any more blood. Unless you...decide.”

 _“Decide?_ What in the fuck do you want me to decide, Adrian?” Trevor threw his hands up and laughed darkly. “I’m not a goddamn fool. I’m not a goddamn heartless asshole no matter what anyone thinks. I fucking _understand,_ alright? Do you think I want to look at your face as you watch me grow old? Do you think I want to leave you alone here? Do you think I don’t fucking know what it means if I stay human? There’s no _decision_ here. At least not any good ones.”

And there was the impasse. Adrian wanted to give Trevor time for thoughtful contemplation about something that would literally alter his entire existence but perhaps there was no amount of time that would make something like that any easier. 

Adrian clenched his jaw and let his head fall into his hands. Hearing this aloud was proving to be too much for him to handle with equanimity. Hearing _Trevor_ say it all to him, with the emotion behind his words, was too much. 

He thought of his father in his dream. Centuries alone here, wishing so desperately for death to finally come for him that he welcomed in a reaper and yet still was denied escape. He thought of the magnitude of discipline and sheer force of will it must have taken for Vlad to never have even once offered Lisa his blood. He thought of Lisa and how losing her had burned away every last shred of sanity his father had left until his only recourse was to burn down the world. 

_The only reason on earth to tolerate human life. The only reason on earth to live._

Adrian wondered if he could go quietly, leave this life behind one day as he’d planned before Trevor returned here. He knew for certain he would never be able to tolerate being alone in this damn castle forever but a quiet death seemed like surrender. If Trevor died as a human, _when_ Trevor died as a human, would he be able to surrender?

He squeezed his eyes shut but visions still flashed in his mind and conflicting feelings warred inside him. He heard Isaac’s voice speaking wisdom he didn’t want to acknowledge. He saw his mother consumed by flames. He saw his father impaled on a stake ripped from the very bed he built for his son. He saw the blood of his sire flow down his own hand that had done the deed and fear gripped him. It was cold and brittle and ugly. He knew it was wrong to keep Trevor with him at all costs. He knew it was wrong to even want that but he knew he was not strong enough to avoid it. Even his father had succumbed to madness in the end. With his mother’s blood, Adrian was far too human himself to resist the temptation. To never act on it, never even think on it, would be a god-like feat of asceticism that he knew he was incapable of.  

_Keep him close, hold him, claim him, make him only for you and none other._

“Hey...hey... _Jesus,_ Adrian, stop. What in the hell are you doing to yourself, stop…” Trevor grabbed his wrists and pulled them away. Adrian looked back at him and he realized when blood trickled into his eyes that he’d cut into his own skin as he dug his nails into his scalp. The blood. His blood. He didn’t even want Trevor to touch it, to see it. He tried to stand, to get away, it was time to leave, now, before he did anything else to damage what they had. 

But Trevor didn’t let him go. Adrian had always known Trevor was the stronger of the two of them. They stared at one another, Adrian’s blood stinging his eyes and staining his world in red as it always did. They were both breathing heavily and Adrian’s hands were shaking in Trevor’s grip. 

Trevor held onto his wrists, squeezing tight enough to make the tremor disappear, and instead of letting him run, he kept him right there, where he was, and staked him in place with a kiss.


	6. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, RHR here for a potential trigger warning. If you’re reading and following along with this story, first of all, thank you! Second of all, please seriously consider whether you want to read the first part of this chapter. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it involves dub-con, because there is definitely consent here, but as always with these two, there are...sketchy power dynamics and serious control issues. So, read with caution. If you’d like to continue to read the story but don’t want to get caught up in their emotional mess, you can skip down to where I have the line of x’s where the narrative continues and just know the part you skipped involves very confusing, emotionally messy, power play sex in a vampire crypt because these boys still have no idea how to have feelings. Thanks again for reading, honestly, it makes me so happy to think that my stories are being read with even a fraction of the enjoyment it brings me to write them :)

Trevor pushed. And he pushed and he _pushed._ He held Adrian in a kiss and he refused to let him go. Even when he nicked his tongue on Adrian’s fangs in his rush to stop the man’s obsessive thinking and even when Adrian whimpered trying not to taste his blood. Trevor only held him tighter, forcing him to swallow. 

Because if he could get Adrian to give in, to stop thinking, stop tearing himself up about everything and just... _just…_

Well then just maybe  _he_ wouldn’t have to decide.

_Shit._

He really shouldn’t be thinking that. In fact, he wasn’t going to think that. He was just going to lose himself in this kiss and hope Adrian would too. That dark little thought was one of dozens he couldn’t entertain and still live with himself. He also couldn’t bring himself to dwell on how badly he realized he needed to hold onto this new life or how very little he actually cared about going back to his old one and rejoining his fellow humans out there in ‘civilized’ society. Not that he’d ever really been a part of that anyway.

He’d been angry, frustrated, and confused over Adrian’s secrecy, over thinking his freedom was being appropriated - _partly his own fault for falling in love with a high-handed asshole-_ but those were knee-jerk reactions compared to how afraid he now felt. He didn’t want to think about that either. He didn’t want to think at all about the cold fear that slapped him in the face like a blast of winter wind when Adrian said they needed to stop exchanging blood. 

It hadn’t really hit him until then. Everything he stood to lose. Everything he’d found and built and loved. _Poof._ Gone. 

If they stopped exchanging blood, where would that lead? Would Adrian eventually refuse his touch? Shy away from his very presence? Could they drift so far apart as to dissolve their bond completely? It would be a pointless mutual attempt at self-preservation, keeping whole Trevor’s humanity and Adrian’s sanity, but it meant nothing if it came at such a cost. That ‘life’ would be no life he’d want to live. He wanted to keep living _right here._ If he had to die, he wanted to die _right here._  

Adrian struggled weakly and made a token try at escaping Trevor’s hold but Trevor forged on. He reached up to knot one hand in Adrian’s hair while his other hand pulled down on his chin nudging his mouth open wider so he couldn’t retreat from their deepening kiss. Trevor couldn’t let him retreat.

He knew this wasn’t the time for this. A more sensible, yet futile, voice in the back of his mind shouted that he actually didn’t want to have fucked up sex on the floor of a vampire crypt in front of a goddamn coffin, but there was a larger, louder more demented part of him that thought, _this will all slip away if you let go. You can’t let him go, not now, not ever._

Trevor knew Adrian could overpower him at any moment, he didn’t have to take this from him, a nobody from a fallen house, a _human_. The fact that he did nothing to fight back only made Trevor more determined to get him to succumb to temptation. Why was Adrian lowering himself to this? Why was he letting Trevor have his way, surrendering control, letting Trevor break him down, pull him off his high and mighty perch, no longer aloof, but _wanting, needing,_ sullying himself by tumbling with his human pet?

Adrian moaned and swallowed again. Trevor ate up the sound and his hands found their way under Adrian’s shirt. Soft linen and hard muscle rustled and flexed in his hands. He broke off their kiss and pressed his weight forwards leaving no where for Adrian to go but backwards onto the floor. 

They stumbled down clumsily, a mess of tangled up legs and knees. Adrian grunted when his shoulders impacted stone. Trevor’s elbows hit hard and a vibrating tingle shot through his arms. He worked out the sting by running his fingers around to the small of Adrian’s back, digging in and drawing out a protest even as Adrian arched up giving Trevor more access. 

“Trevor...we can’t...I _can’t…”_

 ~

_I can’t help myself. I won’t be able to stop._

Adrian was already unwilling and unable stop Trevor from insisting they do this here and now and without thinking things through. He was getting swept along. Trevor’s carelessness and chaos was blowing in and blowing him down as it always did.  

_He doesn’t mean it, he doesn’t want this, he can’t really want this. Damnit Adrian! Get a grip and stop him!_

Adrian tried to convince himself, but _god_ the taste of him was everything. Sweet in his mouth, bitter in his belly, but he didn’t care. 

“Trevor please, you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

Adrian’s back arched under Trevor’s hands as if his body was detached from his mind, from his sense and his reason. This was quickly spiraling out of his control. It felt too good, so good that all the very good arguments against this were flickering away into nothing like the dying embers being thrown from the dying torch. The fire on his skin though, it was blazing and alive beneath Trevor’s fingers and the flutter in his stomach when Trevor pressed his pelvis down trapping him between the hardness of him and the hard stone of the crypt floor fanned the flames higher. 

Trevor pulled Adrian’s shirt off and then his own, the action giving Adrian more than enough time to sit up, stop this, throw Trevor off him, end this dangerous temptation, but instead he laid there on his back and continued to let Trevor march them forward.

“We’re done talking, Adrian. And you’re done fucking _thinking._ Now _fuck_ me. _Do it.”_

Trevor dipped his head down and licked at Adrian’s navel. His mouth was _hot_ and insistent _._ His tongue moved up as demanding hands tugged down his trousers. When Trevor bit at his nipple, Adrian hissed and the light of the torch finally snuffed out completely.

In total darkness, Trevor found his other nipple and bit down harder. Adrian grit his teeth and tried to make his hands move from where they were splayed out at his sides on the broken flagstones. He clawed at the dirt that crept up through the cracks as if that would help him find purchase enough to climb out of this hole they were tumbling down. His cock was _hard_ and Trevor had diligently worked his trousers down just enough to expose his length to the cool air. 

 _Fuck_ but he wanted to force the man’s declicious mouth down on him until Trevor was gasping for air. He wanted to bury himself in the wet heat and slide along Trevor’s tongue. He wanted to grab him up and pin him to the wall, fuck him as he’d so hotheadedly requested and drink from him until the bastard was coming in his hands. He wanted to feed him his blood until Trevor Belmont was _his._

“Trevor, _damn you,_ you have to stop... _stop…”_

But Adrian’s voice was nothing but a feeble whisper and, ever the stupid, reckless fool, Trevor didn’t stop. He poked and he prodded and he _dared._ There was no one else in the world Adrian would take this from, no one else he’d let invade all the secret spaces in his head that held dark dreams, savage desires and wild wishes.

His resolve was waning, but he let Trevor have his moment of control. How could he deny him this after all he’d done to the man? It was only fair. Adrian hadn’t restrained his intent at all. He _wanted_ Trevor to heal, to live, to be his, for as long as he walked the earth he wanted to walk by his side. He’d not asked if that was what Trevor wanted. And right now, Trevor wasn’t interested in what Adrian wanted.

It took every ounce of effort he had left to close his eyes and keep still as Trevor brazenly stroked his cock and kissed at his ear, murmuring things that Adrian could only imagine were meant to break him down further. 

“I want you inside me Adrian. I need you, please, you know you want it too. You want to fuck me, you want to _bite_ me…”

Adrian might have held on, he might have resisted, found some reserve of humanity deep within him that he could have used to push Trevor away and stop this perilous game before they both lost. In the end though, Adrian new the queen was the strongest piece on the board and eventually the king’s defensive moves and small retreats always proved worthless.

Trevor pulled on Adrian’s hair again until his neck craned back and then before Adrian could do anything to stop him, his lips traveled quickly down from his ear to the tender spot of flesh between Adrian’s neck and shoulder and he bit down hard.

Adrian cried out in shock and pain. Trevor’s blunted human teeth, though ill-equipped to smoothly penetrate, broke the skin nonetheless and drew blood. When Adrian felt an unhesitating lick against the wound, a soft suction and a deliberate swallow, it was checkmate.

~

Trevor had no idea what crazy whim had made him bite Adrian. It certainly wasn’t the smart thing to do. The smart thing to do would have been to listen when Adrian told him to stop. But prudence had never been something he was good at practicing. Nor was restraint, obviously, when he felt Adrian’s blood well up from the graceless bite and he decided to drink it. 

 _Damn it all,_ it tasted perfect though. It electrified him, _excited him,_ as it always did, and now that he knew the extent of what it was actually doing to him, he could almost feel the stuff healing him from the inside out. All too soon, the puncture itself healed right up beneath Trevor’s lips and it was time to accept the consequences of his frenzied taunting.

Adrian roared so suddenly and Trevor’s ears rang against the primal sound so loudly, his equilibrium was thrown and he didn’t have time to react when Adrian bolted upright and lifted him off his feet only to spin him around and slam him face first into the closest wall. On instinct, Trevor brought his hands up just fast enough to save himself from a broken nose but not fast enough to push away to catch his breath because Adrian’s hands covered both of his from behind and he pressed him into the stone with his whole body. It was a terrifyingly more powerful mirrored action to what Trevor had done when he pinned him to the floor. Fear ripped through him again, but this time it wasn’t the cold fear of imminent loss. It was the kind of fear that made his spine prickle and a heat unfurl in his gut. It was the kind of fear that made his throat dry, his cock stiff and his heart beat faster. A damning, mind-numbing, bone-chilling fear that he was at Adrian’s mercy now. Or maybe they were both at the mercy of Alucard.

Adrian’s voice was cruel and he was panting when he spoke against the back of Trevor’s neck, leaning forward firmly enough to force Trevor’s forehead up against the wall.

“Is this what you wanted, you fool? _Is it?”_

_Yes, God, yes..._

But Trevor didn’t say that aloud. He let Adrian keep talking instead.

“I told you to stop. _I begged you.”_

Adrian dragged his cock along Trevor’s ass and he made a satisfied sound like a rumble in the back of his throat, but when he spoke again he sounded so forlorn, Trevor almost regretted driving them down this path. _Almost._

“I gave you every chance to avoid this, Belmont.” He said harshly and then he added softly, regretfully, _“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, love.”_

Trevor’s ears were still ringing and now his cock was throbbing. The sensations made it so easy to not _think._ He was so sick of thinking. He just wanted to listen to Adrian, feel Adrian, who was practically growling as he continued to hold him down and rub against him. He doubted Adrian was thinking about anything else right now either besides his own hard cock and it was better this way. 

Because if Adrian’s vampire half took over and took away their choice, then neither of them would have to think anymore, or worry over finding a reasonable solution to an unreasonable problem. They could forget that they were the two most unlikely, ill-suited, fate-cursed lovers of all time and then Trevor wouldn’t have to give any of this up. Neither of them would have to give anything they loved up. They’d both given up a whole fucking lot in life already and the only thing Trevor had decided for certain was that he belonged here. Maybe he already belonged to Adrian. Maybe this whole time, he’d already been his. At this point, what did the details matter?

So he did nothing but keep his hands where they were when Adrian undid his belt and tossed his weapons away. They clattered into a heap somewhere and Trevor didn’t care. He took deep breaths when Adrian grabbed roughly at his hips and yanked down his trousers. And he bit his own lip to hold in a yell when Adrian shoved himself inside, all the way, all at once, and at the very same time bit down deeply into his neck.

It hurt. _Holy hell, it fucking hurt._ It hurt as it had when Adrian was mad with blood loss after fighting Carmilla and drank from Trevor like an animal to regain his strength. Trevor dug his nails into the stone wall, crumbling ancient mortar between his fingers, but that was the best he could think to do to brace himself. Adrian was thrusting into him fast and hard, his hands like vices on his hipbones and his knees pressed into the backs of Trevor’s thighs. But if Trevor tried to shift himself to escape the pounding he was getting, it would only allow Adrian’s fangs to plunge deeper, tear away his flesh, and gush out more blood.

His blood. It was pouring out in rivers. He could feel it and Adrian was gulping it down as he fucked him. Trevor’s head started to spin and he felt that hollow anxiety in his chest that meant he was getting close to passing out. They were so close, skin to skin, yet Adrian still felt so far away from him. Even now Trevor could feel him slipping away, feel his world slipping away and disappearing. His legs started going liquid but he needed to hold on, he needed...

 _“More,_ Adrian, please don’t stop...more, please, Adri...Adrian...I...I’m...uhnnnnn….”

When Adrian wrapped a fist around his cock and started pumping, his words turned into moans.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!_

It was all Trevor could think because, _fuck,_ his whole body was on fire, _fuck,_ he was losing too much blood, _fuck,_ Adrian’s cock driving in and out of him felt like it was going to tear him in half, but _fuck,_ it felt so good and _fuck,_ he was going to come in Adrian’s hand. 

Strange noises escaped him that weren’t words or could even be described as tangible moans. Tears welled up in his eyes and he realized the only thing he could do was stop struggling, stop grappling with the future and here, in the present, just let go…

~

The monster Adrian had become, the beast within him that had broken free thankfully hadn’t taken over entirely. When he felt Trevor’s pulse grow slow and sluggish under his lips, when Trevor’s length stiffened in his hand, but his body went limp against him, Adrian was just able to withdraw his fangs in time and pull his mouth away. He felt blood run down his chin and tears run down his face. He’d stopped drinking from him, _but devil take him,_ he couldn’t stop fucking him. He was so close, they were both so close. This was so wrong, but every damn thing about them was wrong. They shouldn’t be together, they should never have fallen in love, they should never have even seen one another again. They were doomed, there was no good ending to their story. There was no ending for either of them that didn’t include sacrifice and death. So he couldn’t stop. If all they had was this, then Adrian would take it. If they were damned, let them be damned.

He dropped his forehead onto Trevor’s hair and inhaled the scent of leather and sweat. He kept thrusting into him, fast and hard and kept stroking his cock, faster and harder until Trevor cried out weakly, utterly spent in body and soul, and came in his hands.

Adrian licked blood off his fangs and lips and, _fucking gods above,_ he wanted to bite Trevor again, but he knew he couldn’t take anymore blood. Unless...unless…

His climax blindsided him and he pushed in, spilling deep inside. He screamed in fury and only just managed to bite down on the back of Trevor’s neck to occupy his possessive need to claim him. He sunk his teeth in, but not to drink, just to give himself some point of contact to satisfy his vampire half. He held himself still as the spasms of his orgasm died down and the beastly ache in his teeth to penetrate slipped back into its cage. 

It was a close thing. Closer than they’d ever come. Closer than he’d ever imagined he would go. He’d taken too much, that was certain, but he’d stopped himself from taking it all, from making Trevor truly his.

What did it matter though, when all of it was just different flavors of unforgivable.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Adrian finally pulled out, Trevor swayed on his feet and then he passed out completely. Adrian caught him and lifted him up into his arms.

He was numb. Numb from the weight of his guilt and fear and disgust. He almost envied Trevor the oblivion of blood-drained sleep. Trevor would dream of nothing like this. There would be nothing but restful blackness until he awoke. Then there would be hell to pay. But at least he would still wake as a human and have peaceful sleep until then. Adrian would still be a thing caught between worlds, half man, half monster with nothing but self-loathing and regret to keep him company through the night. 

It only made things worse that he wasn’t sure if he regretted what just happened, or if he regretted not losing control completely and turning Trevor, making him irrevocably _his,_ right then and there.

Adrian carried him from the crypt and made the long walk upstairs to their bedroom. The sun had set and though this was usually when the castle woke, lights brightening, magic pulsing, energies strengthening as if it’s builder still roamed the halls giving the place life, now the entire edifice was dark and quiet, with not even the scurry of mice or the patter of Hector’s dogs disturbing the silence. Adrian felt like shame personified marching up to their living quarters, their trousers still undone, messy and bloody and bruised.

When he finally reached their bed, he laid Trevor down as gently as he could, pulled his boots off and pulled the blankets over him. He wanted nothing more than to join him there, lay beside him, fall asleep and share a dream, but he didn’t deserve that. So he walked away, stoked the fire and sat in front of it, staring at the flames from his chair and trying to think about nothing.

He listened to Trevor’s steady heartbeat and counted each even breath he took. He brooded and he wondered. He replayed their entire encounter in the crypt in his head and thought of innumerable ways he could have done better by the man he loved. Words he could have said that would have made more sense. Actions he could have taken. Actions he could have avoided taking. He tried to formulate a plan for what he would say and what he would do when Trevor woke. He thought of the vampires outside and what he would say to them. He wondered what Trevor would say to them after this. What the consequences would be of the horrible ugliness that had just come between them. Or if Trevor would decide he was finally done with it all and let his Morning Star speak for him.

Adrian sat and he worried and he obsessed. He tapped his finger on the arm of the chair in time with Trevor’s beating heart...until he noticed it was getting faster. Adrian turned to see Trevor in bed, still where he’d left him, but he was sweating. There were new beads of it on his forehead and across his collar bones. His fists were clenched in sleep and his breathing had quickened as well.

Something was wrong. He shouldn’t be dreaming, but his eyes were darting back and forth under his lids as if he was. Adrian should know if he was dreaming. He _always_ knew when Trevor was dreaming and what he was dreaming about. It was a quiet shared space for them, where they were both more at ease, both more honest and both more free. It was a mark of their bond. The first mark and the strongest.

Adrian closed his eyes and focused on Trevor’s mind, his presence, but he couldn’t see into his sleep. He felt shut out and closed off and without any sort of control. Their bond should be stronger, not weaker. Nervous now, another face of fear revealing itself, Adrian rose and sat beside him on the bed.

“Trevor…” He brought a hand up to his cheek. “Trevor, wake up.”

Nothing but heavier breathing and a furrow of his brow over still closed eyes.

“Trevor, _wake up.”_ Adrian demanded more firmly and he shook his shoulders, but still the man wouldn’t wake.

Panic wrapped around Adrian’s heart. The only thing he could think to do was invade Trevor’s dream, if this was in fact a dream that had taken hold of him and refused to release him. Was it something he’d done? Was it because he’d taken too much blood? Was Trevor trapped in a nightmare of coffins and vampires and betrayals that Adrian had paved the way for?

With shaking hands, Adrian cupped Trevor’s cheeks and brought their foreheads together. He closed his eyes and concentrated with all his might. He centered himself and slipped into unconsciousness, hoping to open his eyes into whatever place Trevor was confined in.

There was nothing but blackness for a few moments, but eventually Adrian felt heat. After that first impression, he then saw a flickering of bright light against darkness. When his vision came fully into focus he looked down at himself as a wolf.

The hackles of his canine form were raised and each follicle under his fur was on edge. He shook himself and looked around. He was definitely in a dream. But he didn’t see Trevor. He was in the woods around their home and in the distance, against the night sky, was a huge fire. 

Adrian ran as fast as his four legs would carry him. The smell of smoke irritated his nostrils and he felt choked on the toxic fumes that wafted and spread in the air. When he drew closer to the blaze he realized it was the Belmont manor that was up in flames. There was no castle beside it, only land and trees and some of them were catching on fire as well. The place was nearly a ruin already, half the roof collapsed, fire pouring from the shattered windows, the front door burned off its hinges and right in front of that hellish scene was the body of a boy.

Adrian didn’t have to look closely to know that it was Trevor. He was collapsed on the grass in front of the estate, embers raining down all around him. He wasn’t the Trevor Adrian knew though. He was smaller, younger, likely as old as he’d been when this happened in the past. When his home was destroyed.

Adrian tried to turn himself back into a man so he could go to him, but for some reason his form wouldn’t shift. Not wanting to leave Trevor at the mercy of the blaze, even if it was just a dream, he gave up, stayed as a wolf and planned to drag him away with his teeth if he had to, but as he approached, he froze when he saw another creature of the forest approaching Trevor as well, closer and closer.

A giant black viper slithered slowly through the grass towards Trevor. Adrian’s heart stopped in his chest and he ran forward, teeth bared. He skidded to a stop between the snake and Trevor then faced the thing and snarled. He almost snapped out at it before it could strike, but it halted its advance and reared up instead, almost at an eye level with Adrian.

Again, fear took hold of him and again, it showed a new face. This one scaled and sinister and half hidden in shadow. The viper’s forked tongue darted out and it seemed to narrow its yellow eyes at Adrian, gold meeting gold.

Despite his thick coat, despite the heat of the huge fire behind them, despite the hot and agitated blood pumping through his veins and pounding in his ears, a shiver of terror ran through Adrian’s every muscle and nerve when the snake spoke in a hissed whisper.

_“Begone vampire. This one is mine.”_


	7. Wrath

Trevor opened his eyes when he heard a wolf howl. There was a flash of white fur right in front of him and then the orange flare of a fire encroached on his vision from the sides and from above. He managed to keep a relatively cool head despite the fact that his current situation seemed to involve him being incapacitated between a fire and a deadly animal. 

He’d had more than his fair share of these weird lucid dreams now to know that this was one of them, especially in the context of that specific howl and that very familiar furry white blur.

He quickly realized something was different about this dream though. Having Adrian near, knowing they were sharing a private unconscious world together usually made him feel safe and comfortable. Not so at the moment, when he tried to sit up against the pang of bruises he knew he didn’t have before he passed out, _despite what they’d been doing when he passed out._

He spit away some dirt that was stuck to his lips from his position more or less face down on the ground. When he struggled again to right himself, he noticed another discomfiting oddity in this dream. He felt...weak? Or...no, not weak exactly. He felt _small._ Physically smaller than how he knew he should feel. He knew what his own body should feel like, after all, and this wasn’t it. 

Unease and sense of vulnerability started to take hold in a way he hadn’t felt since...since...

_Since I was a kid?_

He summoned what strength he could and pushed his hands down until his fingers squelched into the muddy grass and he was finally able to force his body off the ground. The scene of madness that greeted his fully focused attention was both sadly familiar and heart-stoppingly new. 

His house was going up in flames behind him. He’d seen that particular memory in his nightmares countless times before so, in and of itself, that wasn’t enough to give him pause. The new piece, however, the thing that sucked all the air out of his lungs quicker than any inferno could was the sight of the white wolf growling at a huge black viper that was reared up and ready to strike.

The snake was as long as a man at least with black scales like armor and as thick around as the wolf’s neck it was facing off against. Adrian was vicious in this form, Trevor knew, but for some reason something made him want to pull Adrian back from this confrontation, shrink away, hide in the woods, _escape._

He tried to say that, reach out, shout a warning, grab Adrian’s damn tail, anything to catch his notice but he was frozen in place. Paralyzed there in the dirt, uncertain and afraid even though he knew this was a dream, Trevor trembled with doubt. He was just barely able to lift one of his hands from the ground and when he looked down at it, it was shaking. It also didn’t look like his hand. It was smaller and unmarred save for the old scar from his dad’s whip. The mark was back and it was more pronounced even than before Adrian’s blood had healed it away. He brought his fingers up to touch his face only to feel that his jaw was smooth and beardless. Further up, his hair was shorter and softer despite the grime and ash peppering it. 

This was no mere memory of his burning home. He wasn’t his grown up self watching the flames consume his life from a distance unable to change the past, as was usually the case in dreams like these. He was a child again. In the actual body that lived through this nightmare long ago. The small and helpless body that wouldn’t have been able to do shit to change fate, even though it wanted to more than anything. It was the body that hadn’t even tried to do anything at the time because it was disabled by doubt. Doubt that his life could continue on, doubt in his abilities, doubt that he would be able to move forward from this, doubt that he even wanted to. Too weak to retaliate. Too scared to fight back. 

The sound of the snake’s hiss interrupted his rising panic over the disturbing revelation that he was in the body of a _fucking child._ Trevor could only watch as the wolf struck, not that he’d have been able to stop him anyway. He was trapped in a form too young to help, and too overcome by childish fright to do anything but cower. 

Adrian snapped his jaws ineffectively, chomping down on nothing but air as the snake dodged backwards out of reach. The wolf jumped and dove, trying again to bite at his enemy’s coiled midsection but his muzzle ended up in the mud as the viper darted away again, slick and agile. The normally graceful white wolf seemed plodding in comparison. Adrian growled ferociously, a snarling mess of soot-covered fur and sharp teeth. The snake ducked into the grasses, slithered between his paws, fast as lightning, and escaped every attack Adrian tried to make. 

Adrian was getting turned around and about. He whipped his head to and fro, trying to keep track of the rapidly moving reptile but, before long, it was obvious who the swifter opponent was and Adrian found himself encircled by the viper’s long body. First his hindquarters, then his front paws and soon, despite his struggling and squirming against captivity, the snake had wrapped around his neck, bringing them face to face again, teeth to teeth. 

“Adrian…” Trevor’s pubescent voice cracked and he reached out, fighting against his child-like fear and crawling towards the wolf. He was well aware of how useless and stupid it was to get in the way, not to mention, he had no fucking idea what was going on or why this dream was so different and seemingly not at all in Adrian’s control as they usually were. But he had to do something. 

Adrian flailed and twisted wildly such that when the snake bit down it was on the fleshy part of his flank. He howled in shock and blood welled up through his fur. Despite the wound, Adrian was finally able to clamp his own jaws down on the body of the snake causing a repulsive looking green substance to seep out from between viper scales and wolf teeth. 

The snake hissed again and this time it sounded like a hiss of pain. It released Adrian and slunk back, coiling up defensively. Unfazed, _bless his evil little heart,_ Adrian hacked out the snake ichor that had pooled in his mouth and readied himself for another attack, the red stain of his blood expanding along his white fur all the while. 

Adrian charged but the weight bearing on his injured side made his paw buckle under him and he stumbled with a whimper. The snake took advantage and shot forward, ready to take another bite out of Adrian’s flesh. 

Trevor was finally able to stand and, _idiotically,_ run towards the fight with no plan other than to maybe throw himself between Adrian and the snake. It was as good as his plans ever got, but admittedly he’d never dared to try such a damn fool thing when he was half the size and half the skill level he was accustomed to as an adult. 

_If I die in a dream, will I actually die?_

Today wasn’t the day he’d find out the answer to that age old question though. Someone beat him to it and intercepted the pair of fighting beasts. From out of the burning manor’s front doors came a towering figure of a man, made not of flesh but of swirling ash and smoke. Demon eyes glowed in its head but a human voice shouted out as it cracked its whip at the snake forcing it to jump away.

Trevor knew that cloud of demon vapor. And he knew that voice like it was his own. There wasn’t really time to ponder, however, the fact that in this fucked up dream, he seemed to be a kid from the past but his dad was an undead demon from the present, or the fact that Adrian was still a wolf, fighting some sort of hellspawn snake. Things happened next in rapid succession and all Trevor, and Adrian with him, could do was go along with wherever this really unpleasant nightmare was taking them. 

The elder Belmont, the last good one, the one that went down with the proverbial ship burning behind them, swept his sword out in an arc at Adrian, not as an attack but as a deterrent from leaping back into the frey, then he pointed the tip right at Adrian’s snout and gave an order so intense that only a madman would disobey. 

“Take him, and _go! Now!”_

Knowing Adrian was at least partly mad, it didn’t surprise Trevor when he shrank back but didn’t turn tail entirely. He stood protectively, still between Trevor and the snake. Still he favored his injured side and still he kept to his wolf form. He growled at the demon Belmont, but Trevor’s father was no longer sparing them any attention. He was facing the snake that had paused its attacks and was sitting menacingly in the grass. Trevor wondered whose side his dad was on when he shouted again, this time snapping his whip at Adrian just close enough to graze the tips of his forepaws. 

Adrian yelped. The Belmont demon yelled. 

“Dammit all, I said _go!”_

That time, Adrian snapped to the order like the leather of his father’s whip. He turned and barreled towards Trevor. It was just short of terrifying, seeing a massive wolf with his teeth bared running at you like he was going to knock you down, but Trevor managed to not piss himself, not because he knew it was Adrian, but because he was distracted by his father and the snake. 

His father stood his ground in defiance as the snake advanced on him and as if to state the vile creature would have to go through him first if it wanted to resume its battle with Adrian or get to Trevor. 

When the viper uncoiled, however, it’s form blurred and shifted, the inky black scales spread and separated morphing into a new form, vaguely that of a man, if not for the forked tail that slithered and swung behind it, still like a snake, and if not for the massive gnarled horns that erupted from its head. 

Trevor’s heart felt as if it would pound out of his chest when huge yellow reptile eyes looked out from the new human-form monster they faced. The black slits for pupils narrowed and strange lids blinked unnaturally. Trevor shook his head to break the eye contact and redirected his attention to wolf-Adrian’s warm gold eyes instead. They were intense and determined and when he finally reached Trevor he skidded to slow himself just enough to grab and tug at Trevor’s tunic with his teeth and pull him insistently towards the woods, away from his father and...and...

_What in the holy hell is that thing?!_

The horned creature swiped a giant clawed hand at Trevor’s father, but there was no flesh to tear, only smoke that billowed outward, then formed back into a body. Trevor stumbled backwards as Adrian pulled him along. He couldn’t bring himself to turn away from the fight. He wasn’t a damn child anymore. Why did he have to run? He suddenly didn’t want to leave and all the things he wished he could have said for himself back then started running through his head now. Painfully. Pointlessly. 

_I can fight now._ He thought, the pleas screaming through his mind. _I’m strong now. I swear I can fight. I can win this time..._

He tried to push Adrian away. He grabbed up fistfuls of fur and yanked but Adrian fought him and kept dragging him towards the woods. 

“Stop! Let go! Let me fight! I can...I can…”

_I can save him. I can save myself. I can save my family. I can..._

_“You can all finally serve me in hell, Belmont. Starting with you and your son.”_

Trevor felt the chill of those words in his blood. His arteries froze and his veins filled with ice at the sound of the snake-demon’s voice not only in the air, but in his own head, drowning out his hopeless assertions that he could effect change on a past that had already been written.

He was forced to watch what happened next and he saw it all as if it was a dream within a dream. The image of his father’s demon form held static for a moment as the horned beast lifted his hand. His father’s whip hung in mid-air, mid-strike, and his sword was raised but motionless. With it’s other hand the beast reached down towards the ground and at the beckoning of its fingers, the earth opened up underneath Trevor’s father. 

Flames licked towards the sky as the cracks expanded and in the blink of an eye the demon Belmont was engulfed in hellfire from below until, when nothing more could be seen of him, the earth closed up, swallowing the flames and swallowing the last great Belmont down with them, leaving only Trevor and Adrian and a demon like none other Trevor had ever seen or ever faced. A demon that had somehow invaded his dreams and was coming for him. 

Adrian howled and Trevor finally turned and ran. Full out, full on, they ran together towards the woods. It made no sense. _Where the fuck did they think they were going?_ Hell could swallow them up in the woods just as easily as it could out in the open. And this was a _dream._ What really needed to happen was that they needed to wake the fuck up. Surely Adrian knew that too, but he was still running. Clearly he wasn’t able to do anything to bring them back to the real world. 

So they ran with no real strategy beyond running until, just at the edge of the clearing, at the tree line, where the dark of the woods started and the moonlight disappeared, another invader to their dreams took shape. Trevor passingly thought they should change directions and flee away from both the thing behind them and this new thing ahead of them, but instead Adrian slowed to a canter and howled mournfully.

Trevor followed suit and slowed as well and the two of them stopped entirely to find exactly the last person Trevor ever expected to see again, standing calmly next to the nearest tree, face half hidden by shadow. The man’s radiant crimson eyes glared down at them with enough disgust to make Trevor shiver from the shame of it alone. 

Dracula curled his lips up, fangs bright white in the scant light of the moon, garish against the shades of dark around them. 

“Stand up, Adrian.” Vlad said to his son, disapproval dripping off his teeth like blood. _“And you.”_ He looked pointedly at Trevor and growled, _“Grow up.”_

Just like that, Adrian was a man again, and Trevor was as well, fully grown, and normal. Well, at least as normal as that word ever meant in his life. 

Before either of them could talk, or say thank you, or worry about the demon behind them that wanted to drag them down to hell with it, or wonder for the hundredth fucking time what in the fuck was going on, Dracula gave out more orders. 

“Leave this dream now, both of you.” He said, and there was something in his voice that time that Trevor wasn’t expecting to hear. No longer disgusted or disapproving, no disappointment over Adrian, no disdain over Trevor. There was something else in it. Something very much like how a father might sound.

Adrian grabbed Trevor’s hand and pulled him close. Vlad stepped forward, offering one more terse statement, this time directly to Trevor, before he sent them off for good.

“You would do well Belmont to send a prayer up to that god of yours for your sire. He just saved your foolish lives. And saved me the trouble.”

When Dracula waved his hand, the world went dark and Trevor felt as if he’d been shoved right off a cliff. He tumbled down, feet over head and head over feet, disoriented and lost in the void but for Adrian’s hand still holding his. Were they falling together? _What the fuck just happened?_ Would they wake in their bed, safe and sound? Had they ever really been safe and sound or was all that comfort, all that warmth and belonging an illusion? As unreal as snakes and dead fathers talking to them. As unreal as healed scars, doomed love and damned futures. 

After what seemed like an age of falling, the whoosh of air past his ears gave way to another sound. Distant pounding and shouting. His name. And Alucard’s.

_“Belmont! Alucard! Gods damn you both, open the door!”_

Trevor slammed into consciousness like waves against rocks. He sat upright and clutched at his chest, heaving great, deep breaths as if he’d just surfaced from nearly drowning in those waves. 

He frantically groped at his face and held his hands up to make sure he was _himself,_ that he was grown and not a damn helpless child again. He looked around to make sure he was home, his real home, the one he’d found and made with Adrian. 

He relaxed a little when he confirmed this was real, he was real, he was normal and he was in their bed, in their room, in their castle, but when he saw Adrian, a new anxiety wrapped its fingers around his neck and squeezed. Adrian was at the foot of the bed in front of him, holding his side and panting. He was wide-eyed, shaking and drenched in sweat. The fact that they both seemed scared shitless by that dream was not reassuring in the slightest.

_“Alucard, are you alright? Is Belmont there? Answer me, please!”_

_Shit. Hector._

Trevor stumbled out of bed and moved to open the door. Adrian remained where he was. Was it daylight already? How long had they been asleep? How long before that had they been down in the crypt? Had the vampires outside done something? Would they have to fight something right now? They were fucked if they had to fight something right now. 

He made it to the door, unlocked it and flung it open, leaning heavily on the frame. Hector looked just as poorly off as the two of them, urgency and frustration written all over his face.

“Belmont! Are you both alright?” Hector looked past him to find Adrian sitting on the bed. His tense posture relaxed, if only slightly, to see them both okay. “I’ve been trying to wake you for almost an hour. It’s nearly dawn. The vampires are gathered outside and they are growing past _impatient_ into potentially _dangerous.”_

“Ah shit!” Trevor closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. They had to get their act together. He still felt sick from whatever that dream had been and, now that he was standing, he realized he still felt woozy from blood loss. If it wasn’t demons in their dreams it was vampires up their ass. 

If they could just get a few minutes to _think_ and _talk,_ if they had a moment to settle and not do anything fucking crazy for once, then maybe all the scrambled thoughts in his head would clear, maybe all the twisted up fucking feelings in his gut would sort out. And then he’d be ready to face off against some vampires again. As he was, right now, this nervous energy, this creepy-crawly fear leftover from their dream would only make him clumsy and rash. 

_Shit!_ He’d never felt so out of it before. And even worse, that fact was obvious to see. Hector even called him out on it.

“For fuck’s sake, Belmont, you look terrible, what in the hell have you two been doing?” 

Hector looked past Trevor again at Adrian and Trevor watched the man’s eyes dilate and his mouth open as he sucked in a breath. Trevor whipped his head around to see Adrian standing now, one hand bracing himself against one of the bed posts and the other cupping and uncupping his side as if the repetitive motion would somehow show him something different if he kept doing it. Adrian, Trevor and Hector all looked at Adrian’s fingers in disbelief. They were covered in his own blood. Blood from the wound in his side where there were two deep punctures with jagged tears like tails cut through the skin over Adrian’s ribs. 

It was as if the earth fell out from under Trevor as it had to his father in the dream. Adrian was bitten by a snake while they slept, yet he carried the wound with him still while awake. And it wasn’t healing. 

_“Jesus Christ…”_ If that was a curse or a prayer that escaped Trevor’s lips in that moment he didn’t know. He felt Hector brush past him to attend to Adrian but he remained where he was by the door, unable to wrap his already spinning head around _what in the fuck_ it could possibly mean that Adrian, the indomitable, omnipotent, indestructable son of Dracula, _his Adrian,_ who had just fed from him, had nearly drunk him dry in fact, was somehow unable to heal. And from an injury inflicted in a fucking dream.

“Alucard, let me look at it.” Hector said as he reached out to gently pull Adrian’s hand away so he could inspect the marks. “How did...what could have…”

Adrian, silent until now, finally spoke, answering Hector before he could finish asking. He looked over at Trevor, gold eyes stricken, sad, infuriated. And just as confused as Trevor was. Adrian wasn’t hiding anything in that moment. He wasn’t guarding or schooling his features. Trevor almost wished he had. Because not so very long ago, ignorance was bliss. 

“Trevor fell into a dream that I could not wake him from.” Adrian said. His deep voice was calm in stark contrast to the worry and distress knitted into his furrowed brow. “I forced my way into it to get him out. It was not a place of his making or mine. A demon found him. The one that attacked the dead vampire.” 

He spoke directly to Trevor then, ignoring Hector as he worked to tend and bind the wound. “That... _that thing_ was looking for you all along. And he was right. My father was right. You’re his. The Belmonts also. All of them. You. Their souls, your soul. _All his.”_

Trevor opened his mouth but his tongue felt thick and dry and Adrian continued before he could work out how to speak.

“That was no common demon Trevor. And it all finally makes sense. The Belmont fortitude. The Belmont strength. _The Belmont black magic._ Centuries as hunters, uncontested. All they were able to do, all _you_ are able to do. All that has been done to you. Everything _I’ve_ done to you. Any normal man would be dead by now, but not a Belmont. _Not you._ I couldn’t have guessed why, until now. But my father knew. When I was asleep in the crypt, I dreamt of him, Trevor. And your father too. He warned me. They both did. They both told me to turn you, so that you would be tethered to me and me alone for all eternity.”

Trevor’s hands had clenched into fists, but still they trembled. He felt like he wanted to vomit. His legs felt like jelly beneath him. He was barely able to form his mouth around words infused with sufficient anger to reflect the emotion now paramount inside him. 

_“What in the hell are you talking about, Adrian?”_

Demons and fathers and dead Belmonts. Eternal souls and time past and future. Trevor was sick of it all, sick of the hold all of those things had on him and on his relationship with Adrian, all those things he had no control over. What was more, it appeared Adrian didn’t have any control over them either. 

Without realizing he was moving, he managed to walk over to the bed and push Hector away. He grabbed Adrian’s bloody hand by the wrist and held on tightly as he continued. He needed some kind of physical contact, some anchor in the storm before his wits were swept away entirely. 

“What the fuck is going on Adrian? Be clear. For once. _Please.”_

Adrian looked him in the eyes and told him the truth. Whereupon Trevor decided then and there he liked it better when Adrian lied to him. 

“Your family, Trevor. They all may have told the world my father was the devil, but they knew better. Because they sold their souls, and yours, to the real one. And he has come to collect what he is due.”  



	8. Resolve

Sometimes, _quite often actually,_ Trevor felt as if he were dancing just at the edge of sanity, courting that slim line in between functioning as a competent adult and languishing as a drooling mess in the corner. 

Those times he’d actually been a drooling mess in the corner when he was drunk didn’t count. 

So, excluding those instances, as he stood there in his bedroom with Adrian and Hector, he took a moment to reflect on how the winds of chance always seemed like they were trying to blow him in the wrong direction.

For instance, he remembered one incident when he was a boy and a goblin that his father had trapped accidentally got loose in the house. It stole away all the bedding for some reason. His mother refused to believe it hadn’t been him playing a prank until his father confessed to the blunder. Consequently, they slept on bare mattresses for almost a week until they could restock the linen cabinets. It was an odd experience, to be sure, but things like that happened occasionally, right? 

Then there was that time, it was around his twentieth birthday if he recalled correctly, when he propositioned a beautiful woman in a tavern only to find out, at the worst possible moment, that she was actually a succubus. He supposed he could’ve chalked it up to reckless youth but even so, having to kill a demon with his trousers down around his ankles was not his finest moment. He knew he should’ve just stuck with men.

And, of course, who could forget the day his dhampir lover fucked him rough against a wall in Dracula’s own crypt, sucked out so much of his blood that he fainted and then told him Satan was coming for his soul?

Understandably, Trevor’s set point for what could be considered sane was skewed compared to the set points of other people, but he was pretty sure what was happening to him right now wasn’t anything else besides absolutely fucking insane.

Adrian pulled his wrist out of Trevor’s hand and accepted a strip of cloth that Hector had torn from a discarded shirt so he could press it to the wound in his side. Eventually it did staunch the bleeding down to a slow seep, but the skin remained broken. 

 _Which was insane._ Adrian healed. He always healed. He healed so well his healing was spilling out in all directions and healing Trevor too. 

Dracula had scarred him once though and that hadn’t healed. And when he’d lost a lot of blood he wasn’t able to heal very well, especially when blessed weapons were involved. So it wasn’t as if the only explanation for his wound was the goddamn devil. Admittedly, Trevor had no explanation as to why the wound was even there at all considering it was inflicted _in a fucking dream._

“Did you hear what I just said, Trevor?” 

Adrian apparently expected a coherent response to what was just said. Obviously he overestimated Trevor’s ability to accept insanity at face value.

“Oh I heard you.” Trevor tried to modulate his voice so it wouldn’t sound as crazed as he felt, but the best he could do was still half a pitch too high to come off as entirely rational. “I think you just said the Belmonts sold their souls to the devil. I don’t even believe in _God,_ Adrian, let alone Satan.”

Adrian scowled but it turned into a grimace when he shrugged on a clean shirt, the fabric catching on the open wound.

“Do you think the devil cares if you believe in him? Do you think your ‘belief’ is somehow the origin spark of existence? Because if that’s the case then please, by all means, stop believing in vampires so we don’t have to deal with the ones outside. There is no time to waste over your absurd denials.”

Adrian didn’t sound like himself either. If his voice was normally the refined swish of a saber, right now, it sounded more like the heavy-handed whoosh of a broadsword. 

Given they were both still clearly shaken, the last thing Trevor wanted was to escalate the tension. And yet…

“Oh that’s ironic, calling _me_ absurd! If there _is_ a real devil out there, do you honestly think he gives a shit about _me?_ There are dead things all over the fucking place around here! And there’s a goddamn horde of vampires outside!”

“Yes, lest we forget he’s already killed one of those vampires looking for _you.”_

And there they were again, trading taunts that got them nowhere. Trevor could almost feel Hector’s annoyance at the giant cock up that was their attempt at communication. It seemed sincerity only came easy to them when their dicks were out.

Adrian must have felt the annoyance in the air too because he softened his tone, but only slightly. “You are simply the end point of whatever larger dark dealings your family was involved in. Every piece of information we have so far confirms this conclusion.”

“What information? What conclusion? We don’t have anything to go on but a fucked up dream and a snake bite that isn’t healing. Oh, yeah, and I guess we also have whatever our dads told you while you were vampire-hibernating down in the basement. _Our dead dads,_ Adrian _._ " Trevor emphasized dramatically just to be an ass. _“In the basement._ Now, I don’t know about you but, to me, that sounds like you _fell down a hole_ to find _a mythical savior_ with all the answers. How very _Belmont_ of you.”

Adrian was not amused. He curled his lip up in aggravation until his fangs showed, but he didn’t respond otherwise and continued moving about the room to finish dressing. 

Trevor felt instant regret and reached out his hand, to touch, to implore...to comfort maybe? To do something more effective than badgering each other. But Adrian just brushed past him to pick up one of his coats. He was operating on his own agenda now and it did not involve talking. He put on the coat with another wince and a frown. 

Trevor tried not to feel dejected. It wasn’t like he was looking for a hug and a pat on the head that it’d all be okay. He didn’t have any reassurances to give out either, but he dug down deep, took a breath, and tried again. 

“Alright. Wait. Adrian, just.. _.stop_ for a minute. Let’s just stop and...and _talk…”_

They should have talked long before this. Long before the shit world and their shit reactions to it got the better of them. Instead, Adrian forged on, cold and intense.

“You are in imminent and mortal danger against an ancient force. Possibly the most ancient. Preceding anything your family hunted, preceding every vampire outside, preceding even my father, and in this world, _our world,_ ancient means powerful. That thing, devil or no, thinks it owns your immortal soul. We cannot ignore it, we cannot run, we cannot hide and even if we could, _I would not_ because you are _mi…”_

Adrian’s voice rose as he spoke and the hearth-fire seemed to brighten with the increasing volume. Trevor felt a crushing weight press down on his chest, heavier and heavier with Adrian’s swelling intensity until he stopped himself from finishing the sentence. He closed his eyes and paused to calm down.

“The game has changed, Trevor.” He said grimly. “Our strategy must change as well.”

Then he straightened and squared his shoulders, pointedly avoided looking Trevor in the eyes. 

“First light.” He issued an order to Hector as he walked to the door. “Bring the vampires to me at first light.” 

Trevor knew better than to try and stop him but before he left, Adrian stopped on his own, with his hand on the door knob. He looked down at the floor and made one more resolute statement. 

“I know you did not start this, Trevor. But I will be the one to end it. Even if that means I must end your humanity. For your sake, I hope it does not come to that.” He closed his eyes and then he added, almost too quietly to hear, “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. For everything.”

There was pity in those words. Pity and remorse and fear. Trevor hated all those things, but most of all he hated that they were coming from Adrian. He didn't need anyone’s pity, there was nothing Adrian needed to feel sorry for and he didn’t need anyone to fear for him. 

Or actually fear him? Which was it? Was it both?

 _Christ Almighty,_ if Adrian seriously thought the Belmonts were in league with _fucking Satan,_ was that just one more reason for the only person he ever loved to hate and fear his name? That name and legacy that Trevor was so proud of he made Adrian help him rebuild the damn place that might turn out to be _more_ evil than Dracula’s castle? And now was Adrian going to have to justify not only keeping a Belmont as a lover to his whole fucking vampire court but also explain that the Belmonts had done some seriously questionable, hypocritical and dangerous shit that indirectly resulted in the random death of one of their kin?

_More things you should have probably talked about before, you ass!_

As Trevor cursed himself, he turned to Hector and gestured for him to take the floor to comment now that Adrian was gone. He hoped he’d at least find an ally in his attempt to settle things down even though that ship had probably already sailed.

“I wish it hadn’t come to the two of you having to suffer such a traumatic revelation in a dream, Belmont. Or to Alucard getting injured because of it. But this is more information than we had to go on a few hours ago and as he said, we need a strategy. We all knew something like this was stirring.” He looked at the door through which Alucard had left them. “I also wish we had more time before dawn to discuss with him how to proceed.”

“Hey, you saw me. I tried to slow him down and talk. He wasn’t having it.”

“Belmont, if that sorry excuse for meaningful communication was the best you could do, you’d do better to just shut up in the future.” 

Hector looked him over then and Trevor set aside any hard feelings about that comment so he could prepare to argue with what he knew the man was going to say next. 

“You should stay here and try to rest, but you shouldn’t fall asleep. It isn’t safe. If Alucard was only able to extract the two of you from your dream after sustaining that injury, there’s no telling if he could get you out a second time unharmed.”

Trevor sighed. He was going to have to admit to some details about their nightmare he’d much rather forget. 

“It wasn’t Adrian that got us out. It was Dracula. My dad was there too.” Trevor held his hands up at Hector. “But don’t even think about asking me how it all happened because I have no idea. All I know is that my dad helped us get away and Dracula helped us wake up. It didn’t look like it turned out so well for my dad though. Dracula just looked pissed. I guess a Belmont with Satan on his tail isn’t what he’d hoped for in a son-in-law.”

Hector nodded in serious agreement at the joke that wasn’t meant to be serious. 

“This is all the more reason for you to stay out of sight, Belmont. And you should drink one of Sypha’s tonics. I’m guessing Alucard took too much blood from you before you fell asleep. If they see you, the vampires will know.”

“First of all, I am _fine_ and I do _not_ need to drink the shit Sypha makes for women who’ve given birth for Christ’s sake. Second of all, so what if they know he took a lot of blood from me? Shouldn’t they assume that’s what he’s doing? Wouldn’t it be a good thing for the vampires to see that? All’s well in their world when the human gets bled and knows his place, right?”

“Surely you know that is not how Alucard wishes for you to be seen by them, even though it would be easier. He’ll need to close ranks and defend on more than one front. You looking weak, or worse, actually being weak, doesn’t help that effort.”

“Close ranks? To do what? Go to war with Satan over my soul?” Trevor couldn’t believe he was actually humoring this but he sucked it up and humored it, because there was no stopping the runaway cart now. “Well, whatever. No matter what we do, closing ranks should start with me. If you’re going down to pick up the vampires so they can parade in front of His Majesty, I’m going with you.”

Trevor got up and went over to the night stand by his side of the bed. He opened the drawer and took out a dagger. It was one of many Belmont blades he’d brought up from the hold. Ever since he decided to stay, he'd been randomly stashing his family’s weapons around the castle like he was preparing for an apocalypse. One never knew when a vampire would strike. Or the devil for that matter. Every time Adrian saw him doing it he rolled his eyes but, taking recent events into consideration, it didn’t seem so crazy now, did it?

“Here.” Trevor handed the dagger to Hector. “Keep it on you _at all times_. In fact, sleep with it under your pillow from now on too. It’s blessed. If any of the vampires so much as look at you crooked, you have my permission to stick ‘em in the heart with it.”

Hector slowly reached out, took the weapon and nodded his thanks. “I need to go.” He said and he sheathed the blade at his hip. “If you’ve made up your mind to come along, I won’t stop you.”

“You’re probably gonna tell on me to Sypha though, aren’t you?”

Another statement of rhetorical sarcasm that Hector responded to seriously. 

“Belmont, if the two of you think _I’m_ going to be the one to explain to Sypha that you’ve gotten yourselves into a fight with the devil, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Hector left and Trevor had a moment alone to pull himself together and pull on his gear. Right before he walked out though, he stopped, went back over to the nightstand, took out a flask of Sypha’s pregnant lady juice and drank down the whole thing.

Somehow, in all the quiet time alone together in the castle with Adrian, Trevor had been lulled into thinking that life could be different. He hadn’t admitted that consciously to himself of course and, in fact, he’d scoffed at and protested the very idea every time it popped into his head. 

He’d been holding on to a small amount of token respect for his old jaded self, but all the while he was happily and stupidly falling into the trap of contentment. He’d fallen for the ruse that good things could last and that the past was in the past. Funny how it had taken him years to learn the lessons of survival that love had effortlessly taken mere moments to wash away.

Trevor went downstairs to join Hector. Of all the things he was walking towards, _-irate vampires who wanted him dead, a greedy devil who wanted his soul, a lover who might end up turning him into a vampire-_ he knew, as well as he knew his own cursed name, that the life he’d secretly hoped would take root and grow, however unrealistic that hope might have been in the first place, wasn’t a possibility at all any more. 

Nothing good ever lasted. But this was wonderful while it had.

~

Adrian sat on his throne in the vast and empty hall. It was dark but for a few torches he’d lit. Though it was daylight outside, here in his castle, it was night. 

Night, where he was stronger. Night, where he must rule. Night, from which the heavens fled and hell opened its maws to devour the unwitting, the unworthy and the uninitiated. 

Hector would arrive soon with the vampires. He hadn’t worked out what he would say to them and despite his vehement assertion that they needed one, he had no strategy to speak of yet. It felt as if he should fight, find a way to battle out of the corner they were forced into, but he couldn’t afford to play the game so recklessly no matter what his father had urged him to do across an imaginary chess board. 

The only thing he knew, the only thread of truth upon which he hoped a strategy would magically weave itself, was that Trevor Belmont was _his._

No matter what webs of black magic the old Belmonts had spun, no matter what prize some accursed ancient demon thought he’d bargained for himself at some point in the past, _this_ Belmont, here and now, belonged to Adrian Tepes. 

He hadn’t wanted to treat Trevor as a possession, but if that was what he had to do to keep him safe from those that would never see him otherwise, then he would do it. It was his blood that snatched Trevor back from death and his blood that now coursed through his veins, already rewriting his humanity. It was his blood that would eventually turn him into a vampire. 

Because, right now, Adrian could think of no other solution. Their fathers had seemed convinced it was the only way. If he swallowed up Trevor’s soul all for himself, then surely even Satan could not intercede. He would reap so that the devil could not, just as his father advised. It was the best Trevor could hope for unless they could find a way to fight the fucking devil. 

Trevor was right. It was ridiculous. Insane. Adrian couldn’t blame him for being in denial. At this point, it was probably a measure of self-preservation for Trevor more than anything else. Adrian had effectively tainted all of the man’s coping mechanisms, questionable though they were. Alcohol, sex, sleep, avoidance. Trevor couldn’t drink, sleep or fuck anymore without Adrian usurping the experience from him somehow. And since running away wasn’t an option either, denial was the only thing he had left. 

Adrian slumped back against his seat high atop the grand staircase and the tug of his wound along his muscles made him grit his teeth. For a shallow injury, it hurt more than it should. It shouldn’t hurt at all. It shouldn’t even be there at all. This was how he knew for certain that his conclusions were accurate. As his father had said, there are beasts in the world far worse than him and it appeared as if the Belmonts had found one. He would have to avoid letting the injury show. The last thing they needed was for the vampires to think he was compromised. At least anymore than they already knew he was by love. 

He wistfully considered simply getting rid of them all. Banishing the lot of them from his sight in a fit of petulant fury. He’d seen his father do it before, but an act like that would be nothing but reactionary. He needed to be more calculating. 

So he would allow the vampires their audience and play the pieces on his board in any way he could. Nothing was off limits any longer. Restraint, mercy, humanity, all of those things he’d always believed were important were nothing to him now but liabilities. He’d finally learned the lessons of his father’s failure and he was finally prepared to ruthlessly protect what was his.

That also meant, however, that if he made Trevor a vampire, he would not be forced into it out of clumsy desperation. He would not allow such a grave act to be dictated to them. It would be on his terms, _their terms._  

Satan may rule hell, but Alucard ruled here.  

~

Trevor caught up with Hector in the entry hall. The other man had his hands on the great double doors, but he wasn’t opening them. He seemed to be gathering his courage. Trevor noticed that his hands were trembling and his eyes were closed. 

It was one thing acting as Adrian’s mouthpiece outside the castle’s walls night after night but Trevor imagined it was quite another thing for Hector to invite a bunch of vampires inside his home given his history with them. 

Unexpectedly though, when he steadied one of his hands on the crossed hilt of the Belmont dagger and finally pulled open the doors, Hector was transformed. He hardened his features, held his head up and his chin out, and set his jaw. Whatever was left of the man who had been victimized by Carmilla was gone and he looked like a general fit for a warlord. The warlord that Trevor knew was now sitting on a throne deep inside the keep, waiting for them. 

The doors hadn’t even fully swung in yet when the first of the rabble pushed their way through likely anxious to escape the sun just starting to rise behind them. Trevor put one hand on his Morning Star, one on his short sword and he stood at the bottom of the stairs like a statue.

Hector stepped aside to grant entry to the entire contingent of vampires... _and the humans they brought with them._

Trevor supposed he should have expected that. Not only was it a nice little ‘fuck you’ to the two humans in residence here, but if they were going to be trapped in the castle until sunset, of course they’d have to bring their own picnic lunches.

Hector maintained a completely indifferent facial expression as everyone filed in. Trevor didn’t bother to conceal his disgust. He hadn’t really paid attention to their precise make up when he walked past them outside the manor the previous evening. Now that he was actually taking stock, he noticed they were separated into factions, some with more apparent hierarchy than others. 

There was a pack that walked practically in unison, march-stepping behind a tall, black-haired and dour looking military type who was probably their leader. They all held huge halberds and their humans marched alongside them, vacant-eyed and chained together at the wrists. The slaves were barely clothed with more bruises and puncture marks on their bodies than Trevor cared to count.

Another group was made up entirely of women and they were fewer in number than the other clans, at least as they chose to represent themselves here. They were barely clothed as well but it wasn't for the same reasons as the human slaves. Their leathers were intricately stitched and molded seductively to their pale skin...if that was your sort of thing. Trevor had sworn off women altogether after the succubus incident. Interestingly, their humans walked beside them unbound. They wore thick iron collars around their necks, but no chains were attached and Trevor was also surprised to notice they were armed.

If you weren’t paying attention, you’d miss it, but Trevor knew every which way possible to conceal a weapon on one's person from personal experience so his eyes caught quickly on the glint of steel peeking out from the leather bracers the humans wore. 

He supposed the armed humans could be enthralled enough to never dare use their blades against their vampire keepers. Even Carmilla had allowed Hector to use Trevor’s appropriated Morning Star when he was enthralled. And it might also be a way to protect their property from other vampires, so to speak, if the humans could defend themselves from being stolen. Or eaten and enthralled by someone else. 

Either way, it wasn’t something Trevor had been expecting and it made him curious about how intricate the relationships were between these vampires and their humans. He wondered if knowing more would help him understand his own relationship with his vampire. Then again, his vampire was admittedly a figure that didn’t bear equal comparisons with anything, so he really had no hope but to continue to navigate through uncharted waters without a compass. 

Whatever the lady vampires’ motivations were for arming their pets, Trevor added those humans to his mental list of potential threats in the crowd just in case and he made a point to study all the other humans closely as well.

He counted up the weapons everyone had in their possession, fangs included. He met the gaze of each vampire and each human as they entered. When the humans dared look up at all, they quickly looked away. 

After a few minutes of observation, Trevor couldn’t say there was any visible system by which the vampires chose who they subjugated. No height or size or superficial beauty requirements seemed evident. 

He wondered why these particular humans were being kept as slaves. And what made them different from the humans that were chosen to be turned? Was there a special way the vampires made that decision? Or did they simply grow their numbers indiscriminately from the strongest specimens available when the need arose? Was it possible any here had ever turned a human out of a need for companionship across their long lives? Did they feel that pull to quell the unique loneliness Adrian had told him about? Was it possible any here had ever turned someone out of love?

When one particularly feisty blood-sucker came closer to Trevor than any of the others had so far dared, he was pulled away from the endless questions scrolling through his head. 

The ugly fucker was tall and was accompanied by an equally ugly crew, all clad in plate armor. He bared his fangs and hissed at Trevor from behind a scraggly grey beard that was the same color as his sickly looking complexion.

In any other circumstance, vampire or human, Trevor might have started throwing insults, if not punches. He decided to be the bigger man though and not pick a fight before Adrian even met anyone. Instead, he spit at the vampire’s feet. The asshole was lucky he didn’t spit right in his ugly face. 

There was a tense moment when everyone stiffened at the acts of mutual disrespect, wondering if things had already turned to shit, but the vampires seemed to also realize that starting off with bloodshed probably wasn’t the smart thing to do. 

When everyone was inside, Hector shut the doors and walked through the crowd to the stairs. He nodded at Trevor then motioned for the vampires to follow him up. Trevor stayed where he was, eyeing them all one more time as they passed and then he brought up the rear so none of them got any ideas about wandering. 

Hector moved fast, which wasn’t a problem for the vampires, but some of the more neglected humans were having trouble with all the stairs. Trevor didn’t interceded when their masters dragged them along harshly. He was still sort of hoping this would end in them killing all the vampires, so they could free the humans after that. 

When they reached the throne room, Hector paused. The vampires waited and Trevor would swear they were all buzzing with something. He couldn’t tell if it was fear, excitement, anger or a bit of all three. After a few seconds, the doors opened on their own and Hector walked in. Everyone followed him and again, Trevor brought up the rear. When he finally made it inside, his eyes went straight to Adrian. 

He sat high above them at the top of a large staircase. He was lazed back in his seat, legs relaxed, hands draped elegantly over the arm rests. The castle’s magic light fixtures lined the walls of the hall, but none of them were lit. Only a few normal torches illuminated the room. The dim light made Adrian’s pale hair and pale eyes seem like they were making their own magical glow. 

Trevor tried to catch the attention of those luminescent eyes, but they were focused on the crowd of vampires. Adrian seemed like a stranger up there and the distance between them from where he sat on his throne felt epic and far, so much farther away than the actual number of steps counted out. Trevor had seen many portraits of Adrian’s mother around the castle and he always thought Adrian’s looks favored hers, but here in this place, in this setting, Adrian looked just like his father. 

No one spoke for a _very long time._ So long in fact that Trevor got sick of standing there waiting for something to happen. He decided to lean against the now shut doors, effectively blocking the exit, but he didn’t really care if that seemed like a threat or not. He folded his arms across his chest and continued to wait along with everyone else. Hector was the picture of patience at the bottom of the steps, off to one side. The only sounds in the room were the faint rattle of slave chains as the humans shivered in the drafty space and the occasional rustle of clothing or creak of armor. Eyes shifted warily here and there, always shifting back to Adrian on his throne. 

Eventually, the leader of the clan of women vampires who kept unbound and armed humans proved to have bigger stones than any of the men present. She handed her weapons off to one of her companions and slowly approached the stairs. She got down on one knee respectfully and bowed her head. Her long, bright red braids grazed the floor as she spoke. 

“My people and I thank you for the audience, Alucard.” She said then she lifted her head to look directly at Adrian. “In other circumstances, we would have made our tribute to your succession and left until such time as you felt the need to summon us. But we cannot ignore the death that occurred. And there were more found dead last night.”

What with being busy invading his dreams and all, Trevor was surprised Satan had time to kill anymore vampires. But who was he to speculate on the extent of the devil’s murdering abilities? 

The woman stood and turned around to face the court but she looked past them all straight to Trevor at the very back. The sea of bodies parted, clearing a line of sight between her and him, giving them each an unobstructed view of the other. He narrowed his eyes at her, but didn’t bother to move otherwise. Deals with the devil aside, he was still a Belmont and Belmonts hunted vampires. This bitch had nothing that intimidated him. 

Neither Adrian nor Trevor said anything. They both let her keep talking. 

“I’ve known vampires who were killed by the Belmonts, so I know how their victims die. It would be convenient to believe it was him, but…” Her sentence trailed off and she turned back around to face Adrian. “I think something else is out there.”

Trevor found her forthrightness refreshing. It certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. His initial bad expectations were fulfilled though, when the ugly knight with the grey beard scoffed at her. He started spouting off in a language Trevor couldn’t understand. There was enough angry finger pointing for him to get the gist of it though. To her credit, the redhead didn’t lower herself. She just sneered at him and continued talking to Adrian. By now though, her people had come to surround her defensively, humans included. 

Still, Adrian said nothing as if he were merely watching ants scurry around in the dirt.

“Do you know what is hunting us, Alucard?” She asked boldly. 

Trevor scanned the field to gauge the reactions to her direct questioning of the person who was, for all intents and purposes, their uncontested leader. Vampires in general were hard to read but Trevor thought some of them looked worried. Others were looking at her like she was a fool. Still others hadn’t taken their eyes off Trevor as if he was some rabid Cerberus looming behind them about to break free of his leash and go on a rampage. The rest all just looked at Adrian, likely waiting to modify their mood based on his response. 

Adrian smiled slightly and his answer almost sounded bored. “Many dangerous creatures roam the night. Common vampires are hardly chief among them.”

Not that Trevor expected Adrian to be nice exactly, but leading with a blanket dig like that was...well, he supposed it wasn’t really out of character at all actually. Trevor tried, but he couldn’t hold in a soft puff of laughter. Maybe he didn’t really try that hard.

Murmurs, growls and other sounds of malcontent bubbled up around the room as the vampires looked daggers over at him. Adrian commanded everyone’s attention again when he leaned forward menacingly in his chair. His smile was gone. 

“If I wanted any of you dead, you can be certain I would not need a Belmont to see the deed done. And if _he_ wanted any of you dead, you can be certain it would still be me taking your life.” 

Louder murmurs echoed and hands moved to weapons. A few nervous steps backwards were taken by some. Adrian leaned back and waited until the unrest died down. 

Trevor didn’t know much about politics, and he knew even less about how vampire politics worked, but Adrian’s next statements were, by far, the most flagrant display of bullshit political maneuvering he’d ever witnessed.

Adrian offered another cunning smile to the assembly. “I would like to invite you all to stay here until nightfall. Perhaps we’ll speak again once you’ve rested. Meanwhile, please enjoy our hospitality and roam as you wish. I urge you to exercise caution, however. The castle can be a perilous place, even in sleep.”

Everyone was speechless, including Trevor. 

The entirety of this grand audience, that the vampires had practically been begging for for weeks, had somehow wrapped up in only a few pointless minutes with the beautiful bastard up there saying nothing meaningful, offering nothing resembling an answer to any of their questions, insulting and belittling them to their faces, and then threatening them. All with a smile on his face.

Trevor wasn’t sure if this was exactly why he loved the man or why he frequently wanted to strangle him. 

Adrian stood and it was clear he was about to leave. The collected vampires could only watch. When Hector turned his back on the crowd and started walking up the stairs, Trevor realized that exchange was seriously all Adrian intended on giving them for the time being.

Trevor straightened and wondered if he should follow Hector up to the throne but he was only able to take one step forward when Adrian turned to walk away from the court… _and his breath hitched as the motion pulled at the wound in his side._

Adrian didn’t stop moving, his body made no change in its stance or stride. Hector didn’t miss a beat and continued to follow. The sound was so soft and so subtle that a room full of humans would have missed it entirely. But they were in a room full of vampires. 

Every single fucking beady little vampire eye shifted to Adrian’s back as he walked away. No one said or did anything. Everyone was still quiet and motionless, but fucking hell, it was obvious they all heard it. Trevor wasn’t sure if any of them even knew exactly what they’d heard or why, and certainly none of them could guess that he had a snake bite concealed beneath his clothes but the suspicion was just enough to change the atmosphere. 

The last thing they needed was for the vampires to catch a whiff of weakness or think that Adrian might have a chink in his armor. The only thing Trevor could think to do was bring their attention back to something they were all even more suspicious about, and that was him. 

Trevor let the chain of his Morning Star clink noisily at his side as he strode with heavy human steps across the hall and up the stairs. There was a small part of him that thought he might not make it all the way before someone took a chance and attacked him. 

It was a long and stressful walk but he eventually made it to the top unmolested. He followed after Adrian and after Hector who had both exited up another staircase behind the throne and through a door higher up. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving the vampires to their own devices, _to say the least,_ but after all this, he was now determined to corner Adrian in private and _fucking talk shit through_ before one more goddamn bad thing could happen.


	9. Abandon

“You. _Out.”_

Trevor walked into the room at the top of the stairs and immediately pointed at Hector who was standing beside Adrian. After they both gave him a strange look, he caught himself. 

“Uh...I mean...get out but don’t go near the vampires.”

He caught himself again. _That’s still a little harsh._

“Okay, that’s not what I...look, Hector, you need to go. Because we,” Trevor pointed at Adrian, “need to talk. So go, but find somewhere to go that’s far away from the vampires. Like out in the sun or...something.” 

_This is already going badly._

Trevor amended his order a third time. “Hold on, wait. Can you make it outside without running into any of them?” He threw the blame Adrian’s way. “After this one said they could have the run of the place.”

Adrian said nothing in defense of his action and offered nothing to help. Hector just looked down and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

Trevor waved his hands as if to wipe away everything he’d just said. “Alright, never mind all that. I should just walk you out myself. Come on…”

Hector had apparently suffered the last he could suffer of Trevor’s rambling and spoke directly to Adrian. “I’ll be at my forge.” He said with a curt nod of his head and he walked away. 

Trevor tried to follow _-he’d promised an escort after all and talking could wait a few minutes, right?-_ but, Adrian stopped him with a condescending rebuff on Hector’s behalf.

“He knows the castle better than you do, Trevor, leave him be.” Hector slammed the door shut behind him as if to agree. “And even if he did find himself in a dangerous situation, you gave him a Belmont weapon, yes?”

“Uh, yeah I did, and I told him to…” Trevor’s eyes finally adjusted to the dim light in the room. He forgot what he was going to say when he looked around and realized that the first thing they needed to talk about _was the fucking room they were standing in._

Trevor spun slowly to take in the panorama of his surroundings. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised at anything in the castle anymore but old habits died hard. 

 _“Jesus Christ Adrian,_ where the hell are we?”

For all intents and purposes, they appeared to be in a large torture chamber. Chains and shackles hung like tapestries on the walls, racks and cages sat on the floor like furniture and a few tables were set up to display an array of implements very obviously designed to elicit pain. There was a stone fire pit in one corner with what looked like pokers plunged into it and the only other light in the room was provided by a utilitarian black chandelier caked with the wax drippings of old candles that were melted mostly down to the metal.

“Is that a serious question, Trevor?”

“Yes, it’s a serious question! Why in the hell is there a torture chamber connected to the throne room?”

Adrian took off his coat carefully to guard his injured side and he tossed it onto a table. Then, he sat down casually in one of the torture chairs. It was a sturdy wooden job with iron wrist and ankle cuffs attached. Even with his arms relaxed inside the open restraints, his large hands and long fingers dangling off the edge, since it was Adrian occupying the thing, it looked like just another throne. As expected, he didn’t answer Trevor’s question.

“There is far worse pain in life than any pain ever inflicted in this room.”

Trevor walked towards the chair and bent over him. He placed one hand against the high back, next to Adrian’s head, and with his other hand he pressed into the wound hidden beneath his shirt. Adrian’s nostrils flared with discomfort at the rough touch and a warm wetness spread under Trevor’s hand.

“Speaking of pain.” Trevor scolded and he lightened the pressure, but he didn’t back away. He couldn’t let either of them back away from all the things that needed to be said. “You’re still bleeding under there, aren’t you? I can smell it. And if I can smell it, you know that nest of vipers out there smelled it too. What the hell were you thinking letting them see you like this?”

“I was thinking that when surrounded by snakes, one must find out which are poisonous and which are not.”

“Are you saying you let them know you’re hurt on purpose?”

“Yes.”

Trevor thought he’d much rather be chained to one of the torture racks right now and take a hot poker to his chest than have to brow beat Adrian into a mutual exchange of words that actually got them somewhere. The man wasn’t even looking at him. His eyes were focused on some point in the distance, in the future, while still looking like the past was dragging him down from behind. And he didn't look like he wanted to hear anything but whatever voices were urging him on in his head. Probably one voice in particular that sounded a lot like Dracula. 

Trevor tried to get him to refocus, concentrating on the flecks of brightness in his eyes that had gone a dark amber in the meager light of the room, but Adrian closed them abruptly as if to purposely shut him out. 

Trevor balled his hands into fists to keep from shouting, still leaning over Adrian on his strange throne, refusing him enough space to even take a breath that wasn’t mingled with his own.

“That’s it then? Just...‘yes’? Not gonna share anymore than that, are you? Not gonna explain what all that utter bullshit was back there either? Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like you have any fucking plan and the only plan those vampires have is to kill us both as soon as possible.”

Trevor knew there was no retreating from this now. They were trapped in a room full of chains and horror, with vampires behind them and the devil ahead of them. It was the larger story of their lives writ small, but not only that, it seemed the world had somehow decided to make a joke out of their very natures as well. If Satan was trying to steal anything at all from them, it was clearly their dignity. It wasn’t lost on Trevor that the articulate Alucard was being forced into a position of strong-arm posturing and violence while the reckless Belmont was the one trying to pull the reins and sort their shit out before they drowned in it. 

Adrian finally looked up at him, eyes on fire now and he let loose with a cutting glimpse into his depths. This is what Trevor wanted, this is what he was here for, so he held his breath and dove down with him.

“My plan is what it always is now, Trevor. What it must be. To protect you at all costs. The vampires are pawns, nothing more. If any of them can be of use to me, to that end, then I will use them, but if it comes to it, I will not hesitate to throw them up as a shield and sacrifice them. And if I have to tear apart the entirely of that damn Belmont hold myself to ferret out all of its secrets and find a way to defend what is mine, then that is what will happen. If I have to beg Sypha to return here and use the devil’s own magic against him, I will beg her until my last breath. If I have to send a night horde to drag Isaac back to this castle so he and Hector can empty every damned soul from the vaults of hell itself for me to command, _I will do it,_ and the world will wish longingly for the days of Dracula’s rule _._ "

Adrian bared his fangs then, punctuating his speech with a grave promise.

“And if all else fails and I must make you a vampire, then I will do the one thing my father was not strong enough to do to the one he loved. I will make you mine forever and I will spit in Satan’s _fucking_ face while I do it.”

Trevor let silence have the floor for a moment after that. He could feel the rise of heat and purpose in Adrian’s blood. It made his own start to rush, sending chills down his spine even as his insides boiled with the fever of Adrian’s emotions that he couldn’t shut out. He stepped back, but only enough to catch his breath. They couldn’t afford for both of them to get lost in hotheaded abandon.

When he felt them both start to calm down again, Trevor crouched and then knelt between Adrian’s legs. He took a moment to try and organize his response in his head before he spoke it. 

_Sypha would be so proud._

Trevor considered Adrian’s words again. As entertaining as he was sure all of those threats would be if they came to fruition, and as predictably ‘Adrian’ as that entire overly dramatic diatribe was, there was one thing fundamentally wrong about it all. It was a recurring theme, in fact, and it was high time Adrian was called out on it. Trevor reached up, encouraging Adrian to dip his head closer to him. Adrian obliged as if drawn down by a cord and he let Trevor rest his hand on the upward slope of his shoulder. Trevor felt out Adrian’s pulse with his thumb and measured his words to match the steady cadence of it so as to avoid yelling in his lover’s oblivious fucking face.

“That’s a whole lot of _I’_ s, Adrian. And not a lot of _we’_ s. Which means you’re still missing the point here. For someone so fucking smart, you do a lot of stupid things that _always miss the point_ until something happens, usually involving you rushing in and getting hurt. You’re doing it now, you did it in our dream last night, you did it when you fought Carmilla, and you were doing it even before we met, going all the way back to when you tried to stop your father from killing everyone, _alone.”_

Trevor pointedly looked down at Adrian’s chest where a long and jagged scar under his shirt told the tale of attempted self-sacrifice. Trevor wasn’t about to let the damn fool do it anymore, so he pulled Adrian down further and pressed their heads together. Trevor spoke clearly and firmly. He had to make him understand.

“Don’t say this is all about protecting me, Adrian, when if you’d just let me fucking fight with you _in the first fucking place,_ we could do what needs to be done together before things go to hell in a hand-basket. You know I _want_ to fight. It’s in my blood. You’ve tasted it. You know I _can_ fight. I’ve saved your ass more than once and I’ve been saving my own ass for a long time. I could probably keep saving my own ass alone if I had to, devil or no devil, but I don’t have to fight alone anymore. Because I have you.”

Something broke open inside Trevor as he said those words. More words than he’d ever considered saying before on the subject. On any subject related to he and Adrian. He’d been content to just let it all be without touching it lest it break in his inept hands but now that it felt like something was trying to take it all away, _-because something_ was _trying to take it all away-_ he realized how much he needed all this to be said out loud. No one else was listening. Just Adrian. He could tell Adrian. It was safe to tell him. Adrian was _his_ and it hadn’t ever seemed like he minded Trevor thinking that way. So Trevor needed to say that he didn’t mind belonging to Adrian. Maybe he wanted to belong to someone like this and to someone like Adrian all along. 

Trevor shifted on the hard stone and his knees brushed against the shackles on the chair. Adrian was right. There was worse suffering to endure than any of the physical torture this place could inflict. Trevor knew what real suffering was like. It was okay to admit it now, that he knew the unforgiving, hopeless, loneliness. No matter what Adrian ever did to him, it wouldn’t be suffering. He was done suffering. So he kept on talking.

“You’re not alone either because you have me, and I...I won’t let you be alone now or in the future. _Fuck, Adrian,_ this should’ve been something we talked about sooner, _before_ Satan was breathing down our necks, but it’s not like either of us could’ve known the old Belmonts’ fuck-ups would be fucking with us from beyond the grave. Who knows though, maybe we would’ve never come to this without all the imminent death and destruction. But now that we’re here, and because we both know I’m the bigger man, I’m gonna lay it all out for you.” 

Adrian stiffened like he wanted to come back at him about that ‘bigger man’ comment, but Trevor wasn’t about to let his momentum slow or he’d shrivel right up like a dick in an ice bath. He covered Adrian’s mouth with his hand to silence any interruptions.

“If becoming a vampire is the only way I can stay with you, then that’s what I want. I don’t care _what_ I am anymore, because no matter what I am, I’ll still be the Trevor Belmont who loves Adrian Tepes. You’re the only fucking thing I’ve ever really loved and maybe that’s the only thing I’m good for. Maybe that’s the only reason I’m even here is to love you. And to make sure you don’t fuck up your life by always trying to be a broody fucking martyr for everyone.”

It really was a sign the world was turned on its end that Trevor was the one, between the two of them, to point all this shit out. He took his hand off Adrian’s mouth, relaxed back off his knees and sat right on the floor.

_Holy hell, that was fucking exhausting._

The fire in the pit at the far corner cracked and snapped. Wax dripped down from the hideously ugly chandelier above them. A mouse scurried past a pile of chains making them rattle as it ducked back into a crack in the wall. Something moaned and creaked from deep within the keep, such noises as old places like this often made. 

The sounds and smells of the castle were so ingrained in his daily life now that whether he was sat in a torture chamber or lying abed in their comfortable room, Trevor felt like they spoke to him. To be somewhere long enough to hear it communicate. To weave yourself into its fabric. To move along with it together felt... _right_ somehow. 

That thing that broke open inside him as he babbled on awkwardly about not being alone anymore wasn’t a wound or a crack or a fissure. It was more like a door. Just like a door in the castle, no matter what it held, demonic or godly, obscene or wholesome, Trevor wanted to walk through it because it was his home. And who the hell cared what his body was made of as long as he had a place to rest it and someone to share it with. Hungers drove them all, human or vampire and, as it was, he could do worse than to sate them alongside Adrian. 

Just as Trevor ended that thought, Adrian shifted forward in his seat. Now that he’d finally shut up, it was apparently Adrian’s turn, but it wasn’t what Trevor was expecting. 

“Are you finished?” He asked quietly.

Trevor blinked up at him. “Uh...yes?” If he never spoke again it would be too soon.

Adrian cupped his hand under Trevor’s jaw and brushed his thumb against his cheek. 

“You have your color back. Sypha’s tonic helped?”

Trevor nodded. With his other hand, Adrian cradled the snake bite in his side. 

“I need to heal this wound, love. Will you help me?”

Trevor nodded again. This was good. This was... _easy._

Adrian relaxed back into the bondage chair, leaving Trevor to make the next move. Since this wasn’t how they usually did this, _-their blood-drinking was typically preceded by a lot of sex-_ Trevor slowly stood and considered how to begin. 

Even though he’d been the one to spill his soul and Adrian had yet to respond to everything that was said, the air between them felt different now. Maybe it was enough for Trevor to say it all and for Adrian to hear it. Catharsis was different for everyone he supposed. 

Trevor watched as Adrian closed his eyes, letting his chest fall in a long exhale. His arms were open and resting once again in the wrist cuffs. His long legs were lazily bent and spread out. He looked tired and vulnerable. Much different than a little while ago when he sat on an actual throne at the top of an imposing staircase lording over, shaming and threatening a bunch of vampires like some decadent emperor. Or bloodthirsty conqueror. Or both. Trevor wondered what the vampires would think of their king now if they could see him like this.

And that was all it took for a really indecent thought to pop into his head. 

_He wouldn’t mind fucking Adrian on that throne._

Frankly, he wouldn’t mind it if every one of those vampire bastards watched him do it too. And their humans. 

Did they all think Trevor was enthralled? An obedient little slave, like theirs, that Adrian took to bed and took blood from as he pleased? Was it possible they could imagine the reality, that the world inside this castle held equal but contrary forces? That Trevor and Adrian were simply opposing dynamics that drew from each other proportionately rather than living under the strict roles of master and slave. 

Trevor stepped forward and rested his knee on the chair between Adrian’s legs. He pulled out his boot knife, cut through his wrist, then tossed away the blade, being careful not to let the blood that was quickly welling up fall to waste. He slid his other hand behind Adrian’s neck and urged him forward. 

“Drink it.” He said as he pressed his wrist to Adrian’s lips. Adrian opened his mouth and looked up at him at first, but then he let his eyelids fall shut again and he swallowed.

It wasn’t often Trevor watched Adrian feed like this. Actually _watched,_ without simultaneously chasing after an orgasm or going out of his mind with the dizzy pleasure of it. He wondered if Adrian was trying to avoid making this about sex right now by sitting there passively, his fangs not even penetrating. 

If he was, it wasn’t working. 

Trevor couldn’t get the image of Adrian on that throne out of his head. And then the image of Adrian bent over it. Of them switching places and Adrian straddling him while he sat on it. Of kicking the damn thing away on its end, flipping Adrian onto his hands and knees and fucking him into the marble slabs underneath it. Hearing Adrian yell his name, and hearing it echo over and over in the hall. 

 _God_ but it was satisfying when Adrian lost control. Seeing all those emotions he kept locked away leak out in the form of a moan or a plea. Or a filthy request that no one else would ever hear. Things that no one else would ever know about. Things that could only be said when Trevor had him pinned and there was no where else to go and nothing else to say but to admit that he _wanted it._ Admit he _loved it._

Trevor’s mouth hung open and his lips went dry. He licked them before he spoke but it didn’t smooth out the rough edges of lust in his voice.

“Are you healing?” He asked. Adrian was forced to just nod in the affirmative because Trevor didn’t take his wrist away to allow him a proper answer. 

“Do you need more?” A second question and this time a shake of his head in the negative. Trevor slowly pulled his wrist back and Adrian licked it clean. They both watched as the laceration healed itself. It didn’t bother him in the slightest now. He pushed up Adrian’s shirt to reveal that his wound was also healing over, at least enough to stop bleeding and hopefully enough to stop hurting. 

Nothing like blood cursed by the devil to heal the devil’s own bite.

Adrian moved a little as if he wanted to get up, but Trevor had a different plan. 

“Stay put. We’re not done here yet.”

Adrian raised an eyebrow. “You have more to say?”

“I dunno. Maybe. Maybe I just want to tell you how much I’d like to fuck you on your throne back there.”

Trevor almost thought he could hear Adrian’s heartbeat quicken. He certainly felt his own heart beat faster in his chest. 

“That’s probably not the safest place.” Adrian cautioned as if the ridiculous suggestion was actually under serious consideration. “We can’t be that exposed right now.”

Trevor waved his hand at their surroundings. “Do you feel safer in this torture chamber?”

“Should I feel unsafe here?”

Trevor lowered his voice. He may have phrased it as a jest but the desire behind it was all too real. “Does it feel unsafe that I _want_ to expose you? That I want those bastards with their chained up humans to know how much you love it when a human fucks you?”

“You’re not just any human though, Belmont.”

“Is that because I’m _your_ human, Alucard?”

“Yes.”

Trevor kissed the word right off his lips. 

“I just did a hell of a lot of talking Adrian…” Another kiss and a nuzzle. “You owe me for doing all the heavy lifting you bastard…” Kiss again, harder, and Adrian tried to lean forward to get more, but Trevor pushed him back against the chair. “Just sit there.” He ordered. “Just sit there and fucking think about how much you need me.”

Adrian gasped. Trevor ate it up. “You need my blood, you need my body, you need me to fight with you, you need me to be with you forever, don’t you?” 

A muffled assent and Trevor kept talking. He thought it might even be getting easier. It was definitely easy to yank down Adrian’s trousers as he sat there, pliant and eager. Not at all like the stone wall that the vampires met back in the throne room. It wasn’t as if Trevor didn't already know what was needed to break down Adrian’s walls but this talking thing was by far the least destructive weapon in his arsenal.

“Are you going to answer me? Or do I need to keep persuading you?” Trevor freed Adrian’s length and took it firmly in his hand.

Adrian groaned and shoved his pelvis up into Trevor’s grasp. “Please, no more talking. You’ll be the death of me with your talking.”

Trevor re-positioned himself on his knees between Adrian’s legs again. There was nothing keeping Adrian’s hands nestled in the wrist restraints and nothing keeping him in the chair at Trevor’s mercy but he stayed where he was, and he waited. 

Trevor bent his head forward and teased at the tip of Adrian’s erection with his tongue. When Adrian hummed softly, Trevor pulled back. 

“Come on. Louder. Maybe they’ll hear you.” He teased. 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, Belmont?” Adrian said, his voice strained but still quiet. 

When Trevor squeezed tight and started stroking, despite his protest, Adrian let out a loud moan.

“That’s it.” Trevor smiled up at him. “I don’t think there’s anything I love more than making you come for me.” Trevor tugged slow and steady and every time Adrian made a noise he rewarded him with a lap of his tongue. “You can be as intimidating as you want out there but I know how to knock you down a peg, don’t I?”

Adrian was getting desperate now. His head was craned back and he wasn’t watching anymore. His fingers were dug into the chair. His thighs were flexed and his breathing was erratic. 

Trevor smirked to himself as he put is mouth around him. With slow movements and soft suction he took him in all the way and worked him up and down until lofty Alucard was thrusting his hips up and begging at the top of his lungs for more. 

It was music to Trevor’s ears and he hoped everyone and everything in the castle heard it from the mice in the corners, to the vampires in the halls and especially the devil in their dreams. He couldn’t deny, it was seeing Adrian succumb to the expansive abandon of his power on that throne that got him so worked up, but he decided he loved Adrian succumbing to the private abandon of surrender even more. 

As soon as Trevor felt he was ready to spill he let him come in his mouth without torturing him further. He did make it last long enough, however, to draw out the last of Adrian’s deep-voiced cries of satisfaction. All at the hands of the mere human at his feet.

Trevor released him, leaving the man to fall limp against the chair. He rose on awkward legs, wincing at the throb of his own hard cock still trapped in his trousers. Spent as Adrian looked, it was high time the high and mighty vampire lord got down on his own knees. 

Trevor kicked rudely at one of Adrian’s boots. “Hey. No rest for the wicked. My turn now.”

A smile spread across Adrian’s face and he chuckled softly. He glared up at Trevor and showed his fangs, but he slid down to the floor all the same. “Who’s the wicked one here?”

Trevor held his breath as Adrian undid his trousers just enough to free his cock and get his hands around it. He couldn’t stop himself from taunting one last time.

“Will you still suck my cock on your knees like this after you turn me and I’m yours?”

“I’m sucking your cock on my knees like this because you’re already mine, love.”

Trevor laughed. “Cheeky bastard.”

But he had to stop talking then and focus. Staying on his feet while he watched this wasn’t going to be easy. Nor was it going to last long. Warm amber eyes looked up at him through pale lashes and Trevor made a point of committing that exact picture to memory so he could call on it the next time one of the vampires pissed him off. He might be a cursed Belmont, and he might be just a human, _for now,_ but he was still the only one that would ever see Adrian on his knees, pupils dilated, lips parted, mouth open and full of cock. 

Adrian didn’t bother with finesse. He didn’t bother with elegance or grace. He knew Trevor wanted his dick sucked and he wanted to get off as quickly as possible and that’s what he made happen. It was definitely quick enough to be embarrassing, but Trevor didn’t care. How could he care when it felt so damn good? When Adrian never took his eyes off him and knew just how to touch him, just how he liked it and just what would make him come until he saw stars. 

When Trevor felt the tingle at the base of his spine and saw the white light at the corners of his vision he gave in without a second thought and spilled himself right down Adrian’s throat. _Fucking hellfire,_ it was good enough to make him scream, but he held it in and stayed silent. He’d made enough noise for one night so instead, he let Adrian know how perfect it all was by clenching his hands gratefully in the silk strands of his hair and holding him close until he was finished. 

They parted reluctantly and fumbled away from each other. Trevor flopped down to the floor and Adrian leaned back against the legs of the chair. Trevor closed his eyes but he realized he’d have to fight off the sleep that beckoned so temptingly right now because he remembered what Hector had warned. Another dance with the devil in a dream was the last thing they needed until they planned their next move. Together. 

Adrian helped to keep him awake by reaching over and holding his hand. And by talking. 

“Trevor…” He said his name with enough seriousness to be worrisome but it came as no surprise that the dhampir messiah so readily picked his cross back up without a moment to rest. “You need to know that turning you is not without risk. You are not a normal human and I am not a normal vampire. That path is far from the easy solution we might wish for it to be. It is a high stakes experiment that I am not willing to rush into if we can at all avoid it. It is something I was taught to hold sacred and it should be done carefully, not as a whim or under duress with the last grains of sand in the hourglass draining behind us.”

Trevor propped himself up on his elbows. At least they got to have sex before their ‘talk’ turned dark as it was bound to at some point.   

“Wait. You mean you’ve never done this before?”

“Of course I haven’t done this before. It is a serious commitment with eternal consequences. I am not so indiscreet as many of my kind.”

Trevor sighed and laid back down. “So then, this ‘first time’ won’t be as much fun as me fucking you your first time, I’m guessing?”

Adrian squeezed his hand affectionately. “Not nearly. But I would hope to be less frantic about turning you than you were about fucking me.”

“Well, we may not have a choice.” It was then Trevor knew he had to make his wishes crystal clear, as if he hadn’t already. “Listen, Adrian, you need to promise me that if shit starts to go bad, you’re going to do it. No matter what, risky or not. Alright?”

“Trevor, if I had turned you when things _‘started’_ going badly, you would already be a vampire.”

“Come on, you know what I mean.” Trevor wasn’t leaving this subject without a promise. If his own father, _both their fathers,_ came back from the fucking dead to warn them that this was their last resort, then it would be plain stupid to not at least consider the possibility of a rush job being necessary.

Adrian came close and leaned his forehead to his. Then he closed his eyes, and he promised. 

“If it comes to it, Trevor, I swear I won’t hesitate.”

Trevor nodded, satisfied. “Okay. So now what?”

Adrian stood and offered Trevor a hand up. “Now we let the vampires rest until nightfall. As I said, I will speak with them again, but not as a group. I’ll decide who to approach soon but we need to wait and see if any of them make any ill-conceived early gambits.”

“The nail that sticks out gets hammered down, eh? The church is good at that. Who knew the vampire court and the holy church had so much in common when it comes to maintaining power.”

“Indeed. First though we need to get back to Hector. I was not exaggerating when I said I would tear apart the Belmont hold myself, and Hector will know where to start. It was also not an empty threat when I said I would…” Adrian stopped himself and corrected his mistake. Because after all the things that were said, he finally understood. “No. Not ‘I’. We. _We_ are going to seek help from our friends.”

Trevor hated to lose ground here, but he felt the need to protect himself. 

“Hold on. I’m all for digging up the Belmont secrets to figure out what they did and how they fucked up, _together,_ and I’m all for recruiting our friends to help, _together._ But please... _please_ don’t make me tell Sypha by myself that my family sold my soul to Satan and that we only just found that out now.”

“Mm. We’ll do that together as well.” Adrian said it with conviction, but he didn’t look as confident as he sounded. “She can’t murder both of us.”

Trevor wasn’t so sure. He hoped they had their act together before she showed up because compared to her, dealing with the devil didn’t sound so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, I'm popping in to shamelessly mention that it's my birthday this week, so if you've been following this series but haven't had a chance to stop by and let me know what you think, if the spirit moves you, I'd love to hear from you as a birthday gift! It always makes my day to hear when someone has enjoyed my fics and it's always really motivating! Thanks for reading and more to come. :)


	10. Faith

****Adrian reassembled himself into some manner of vampire lord and Trevor checked his weapons as a hunter of demons should. They were a far cry from their fathers in many respects but perhaps that was the only thing that had kept them from the unfortunate fates of their forebears thus far.

Adrian could still taste his lover in his mouth, blood and sex and abandon. Just watching the man do up the ties on his trousers made him want to rip them back down. Sadly, there were more pressing matters at hand. This lovelorn fool in front of him had become his whole world and it terrified him that his world was being threatened. Fools be they both then. 

Trevor stepped close and brushed his knuckles along Adrian’s side.

“You sure this is okay now?”

Adrian caught Trevor’s hand and brought his wrist up to kiss it lightly. It was a delicate and tender nook in his otherwise battle-hardened body and the flow of blood beneath the flesh there warmed each inviting crease of skin. Trevor was healed already from the slash he’d given himself earlier but his scent alone was enough to stir Adrian’s hunger again and make his will to resist melt away.

What powers his Belmont had, to both excite and soothe the savage beast within. Such dangerously complete control over Alucard’s urges, both deviant and pure, yet he always tempered it with generous compassion. 

And most of the time, Adrian was certain the beautiful jackass had _no fucking idea_ what he was doing or how damn near perfect he was. He brushed off gratitude, minimized praise and generally just ignored the fact that he could ask Adrian to burn down the heavens for him, and it would happen. Rather, he asked for so little and was happy with even less. 

Adrian thought that he might be content doing nothing but chasing after each of the man’s whims until the end of time like a lapdog, just to see his ludicrous little simpleton smile, he the slave and Trevor the master. 

It was a thought equally as terrifying as a confrontation with the devil, but such was love.

“Are you offering me more of your blood?” Adrian asked suggestively and he kissed his wrist again. Trevor’s will remained strong even if Adrian’s was waning. 

“If you need it, yes. If you don’t, then wipe that dirty leer off your face, you pervert. There’s a hell of a lot we need to be doing right now and none of it involves pulling our dicks out again... _here.”_

Trevor took his hand back and waved it at their surroundings. 

Adrian goaded. “Casting stones as if you’re without sin, are you?” 

Trevor’s indignation was almost as hypocritical as anything any Belmont had ever done, considering it was he who started this. Adrian’s body moved closer on its own, not that he would have stopped it. His arm reached around Trevor’s waist and he pulled them flush together. Something in him needed contact. Something primal. If being with Trevor was teaching him anything, especially in the setting of their recent conversation, it was that embracing instinct was not something he needed to feel shame over. It was something honest. So Adrian felt he should go with that honesty and correct Trevor’s preconceived notions about the room they were in. 

“This is not the type of torture chamber you seem to think it is, Belmont. Or do you know this already and are simply trying to convince yourself otherwise?”

Trevor’s brow furrowed with that confounding mix of annoyance and ignorance that Adrian found so amusing. 

“What do you mean? What other type of…” His blue eyes widened in lovely innocence and Adrian had to smile. 

For someone as cynical and jaded as Trevor Belmont, who’d gutted more creatures than a butcher in a market stall, to have such adorably naive hidden pockets of inexperience was something that made Adrian want to absolutely _ruin_ him in a place like this.

Or let Trevor have the run of things and see what he could come up with. 

Because that was the give-and-take of them. Adrian knew he needed to start embracing that fact in all situations, not just the ones where they explored their desires. Trevor was vulnerable but he was also strong, commanding a magic of his own not tied to Belmont curses or dhampir blood. He had fortitude enough to withstand those things that might have crushed someone else, someone lesser, but Trevor bore his burdens and then also shouldered the burdens of others. No matter what, Trevor would always be Trevor, his singular light, garish and clumsy though it was at times, was too bright to be dimmed by anyone, anything, or any circumstance. 

Adrian had never particularly held to the thing called faith. He’d been raised to seek his own understanding and not blindly await enlightenment from deities who cared little for the trials of those beneath them. But he realized now that he must have faith in Trevor if they were to move forward. And he did. And they would. 

Trevor recovered quickly from the little revelation and smiled back at him. “Listen you filthy-minded bastard, the first thing that’s happening after all this is settled is me bending you over that throne out there and fucking you until I get it out of my system. You can chain me up in here all you like after that.”

Adrian agreed, more than satisfied. “I believe we have an accord then, Belmont, and I will hold you to it.”

They kissed one last time, slow and lazy, like the fools they both were, then they walked out together, back down to the throne room. 

They paused at the top of the large staircase, next to the throne Trevor was so enamoured by, when they saw a small group of guests below that hadn’t taken up the offer to enjoy the castle’s hospitality.

It was the vampire with the ginger plaits who had confronted him during the audience, along with another vampire, presumably one of her captains, and one of their humans. They were huddled close against one of the far pillars and speaking in hushed voices. 

Adrian had already decided he respected the woman, for her boldness if nothing else, but now he also respected her calculus. She must have sent the rest of her people off, either to allow them to rest or to monitor the other factions, both if she was smart, while she herself remained here, perhaps for just this moment, to catch a glimpse of Alucard and his Belmont in passing. Whether for good intentions or ill, or simply to glean information by observing, Adrian wasn’t sure yet. He didn’t know who she was but her garb and equipment suggested she came from one of the old viking clans to the north, though if it was her original claim or if that culture belonged to her sire and she came to it after she was turned, was also something he was unsure of.

When he and Trevor entered the hall, she and her companions looked up at them but didn’t move. Trevor kept still as well, waiting for Adrian to determine how best to proceed. 

“Walk beside me. And ignore them.” He spoke quietly, not that he thought they wouldn’t hear, but that was the point. For them to know that he wanted Trevor beside him. And for them to know that they were of such little consequence as to be ignored entirely. 

Trevor nodded once and they descended. The trio eyed them warily but they bowed their heads in deference nonetheless as he and Trevor passed, making no moves against them and doing nothing to waylay them. Another strategy Adrian respected. 

The large doors opened of their own volition as Adrian approached and he and Trevor exited into the corridors beyond, leaving the viking and her people behind. They walked like that until they were halfway to Hector’s forge. Adrian sensed Trevor was itching to speak, so he gave him leave to do so.

“You can talk freely here if you wish.” He said, and Trevor immediately did exactly that.

“So...I like her. That redhead back there.” Trevor sounded certain, but then he seemed to change his mind and made it into a question. “Should I like her?”

“I’d advise you not to ‘like’ anyone, as they are all ultimately only here to protect their own interests, but yes, your instincts are in agreement with mine. I don’t believe she’ll be first on our list of who we need to kill.”

“My money’s on the big one needing to die first. The one with all that over-compensating armor. Plus, he’s ugly.”

Adrian didn’t disagree, but impractical suits of armor and coarse facial features weren’t enough to condemn a man to death. Especially if his death would prove more useful if put off for now. 

“It is likely Hector has the unfortunate distinction of knowing more about them all. We must ask him. And given everything he’s done for us already, something tells me we’re going to owe him a great deal before this business is finished.”

Trevor pushed open the door to the forge and shrugged.

“Threesome it is then.”

~

Warm blue light glowed upwards from the large stone slab in the middle of the forge chamber. There were runes still illuminated on it and when Trevor inhaled he smelled magic. They had a cursory look ‘round, but Hector wasn’t nearby. Adrian stood still and paused for a moment, then he waved for Trevor to follow him. They went to the far end of the room, under an archway, around a corner and through a set of open double doors to find themselves on a large balcony. 

The sky was a matte grey above them and stacked with clouds that were near to bursting. It was already around mid-morning, but the sun was nowhere to be seen. The air was muggy and damp. Rain was sure to fall soon. 

Hector was there outside, holding his forge hammer in one hand, but he had his back to them. Facing them, were two massive winged demons perched on the palisaded walls. Their red eyes were bright against the black leather of their skin and as they shifted their weight, their great clawed talons scraped gratingly on the metal of the spiked fencing. They were focused intently on Hector, and when he raised his hand, they each immediately spread their wings. It took only a few powerful beats and they were airborne. One turned to fly south, the other east.

Hector finally turned then as well, his face steely, one hand still holding his hammer and the other resting on the Belmont dagger at this belt. When he noticed them, he stopped and his shoulders seemed to relax back from the tension he’d been holding there. 

“Alucard. You’re healed?”

Adrian nodded, and a little more tension seemed to dissipate, so he turned to Trevor.

“Belmont. You’re...um...sorted?”

Adrian’s sudden exhale at Hector’s question sounded a lot like a laugh. Trevor folded his arms across his chest. 

“Not that I know what the hell that's supposed to mean, but I guess I’m as sorted as I can be with Satan up my ass.” It occurred to Trevor then that Hector needed to be brought up to speed regarding all the relevant things he and Adrian had discussed. They’d dragged the poor man right into the middle of their mess. He deserved to know exactly how messy it might get. 

Trevor glanced at Adrian, who seemed to understand even without Trevor saying anything and he nodded again in silent approval.

“Listen, Hector,” Trevor started, and he rubbed at the back of his neck, “first of all, we apologize. For being... _us._ And for making you put up with it.”

Hector just stared at him as if to completely agree.

“We...uh...we talked about... _things_ and decided that...well, in case something happens, you should know…”

Adrian let out a long suffering sigh and took over.

“Hector. You are a good friend and a powerful ally. We thank you for all the help you’ve given us. Trevor and I have agreed that we must make every effort to find a way to sever or counter whatever curse the old Belmonts passed down through their generations but, if all else fails, we refuse to be parted, in this life or the next. Thus, if it comes to it, I will make him a vampire. Nothing about our path will be easy but we would humbly ask for your continued assistance. Will you support us in this?”

Trevor narrowed his eyes angrily and his mouth hung open at that speech. He wondered why the fuck he was the one who had to do all the talking a little while ago when Adrian summed it up perfectly well just there but he was too gobsmacked to complain.

For his part, Hector rolled right along with it.

“Even if I didn’t owe you both my life and my freedom, I’ve found that being here, _though trying,_ has helped me find a bit of faith again. So, I must thank you as well, and I’ll support you in any way I can.”

Trevor found himself taken aback a little by Hector’s speech as well. That comment about faith was interesting. He’d never considered himself particularly faithful, but maybe the concept was a lot simpler than the Church made it out to be. Or maybe the Church was just wrong about it like it was wrong about mostly everything else it tried to shove down people’s throats. Even without understanding it, Trevor had to admit that if he’d ever had faith in anything at all, it was Adrian. If Adrian felt the same way about him, _and he hoped he did,_ maybe that’s what Hector was talking about. Maybe they’d all had to build up their own faith in something to keep on going and it had nothing to do with alters or cathedrals.

After they basked in the warmth of their slightly strange friendship for a few seconds, Trevor raised his hand and pointed out at the sky. “Okay. Fantastic. Now that we’re all on the same page, I’ll just go ahead and ask: Where the fuck did those two giant demons come from?”

Hector moved past them and strode with purpose back inside. They followed as he explained. 

“I forged them. I’d hoped the two of you would come to the same conclusion I did that we’ll need to scour the hold for more information. It’s obvious we should try looking in some of the older sections, but those are all locked down or protected with wards that I doubt any of us here will be able to break. I’d also hoped it wouldn’t come to it, but it is best we involve her now before things get any worse, so I’ve sent for Sypha. I communicate with her regularly. Her caravan isn’t far from here thankfully.”

Trevor frowned. That was all well and good. They _had_ come to the same conclusion. But there were things in Hector’s plan that begged questions. And since it seemed like everyone was still in a mood to share, Trevor asked them.

“How exactly have you been communicating with Sypha all this time? And why? And when you say you forged the demons, what, pray tell, _or whom,_ did you forge them from?”

Adrian piped up to let Hector off the hook. 

“The castle has a rookery, Trevor. If you bothered to venture anywhere in the keep that didn’t have weapons, a bed or food, you would know this. Hector has stocked and maintained it and his crows carry messages swiftly and accurately. As to _why_ he’s been communicating with Sypha, she asked him to. Because she doesn’t trust us, _particularly you,_ to stay out of trouble. And it seems she was correct in her assumptions.” 

Hector spoke for himself then, adding in a low, ominous voice, “And does the man whose soul belongs to Satan really want to argue about the substrates I use to forge demons that will help us get it back?”

_No. No, in fact, the man whose soul belongs to Satan does not want to argue about that._

“Point taken. Any port in a storm is fine with me.”

Speaking of storms, it must have started raining, because a loud clap of thunder boomed outside and it sounded like the clouds had finally opened up. The large table in the center of the forge had cooled and dimmed, the runes no longer visible, so Trevor leaned back against it.

“Alright. So, what do we do until Sypha gets here?”

Not that the three of them weren’t perfectly capable of doing things on their own, but...you know…if reinforcements were coming…?

Adrian didn’t seem to think watchful waiting was the right course of action though. “Hector, what do you know about the vampires we’re hosting? Any information you have may help us decide which can be of use to us versus those we must eliminate.”

“Mm, I know enough...” Hector paused, set down his hammer and leaned up against the table next to Trevor. They gave him time to sort through what must be a jumble of painful but indistinct memories, some likely acquired while enslaved and enthralled. When he continued, it was with clinical detachment.

“It seems like those left in the wake of Carmilla’s death have fallen mostly into three factions. The largest contingent belongs to the one you spit at in the plate armor, Belmont.”

Adrian frowned and glared at Trevor reproachfully. 

“Hey, he started it when he hissed at me! Was I supposed to just stand there and let him hiss at me? He’s lucky I didn’t stake him right in his ugly fucking face.”

Adrian just shook his head and let Hector go on.

“His name is Rolf, and his lands are near where Carmilla had her seat. The two of them had a...relationship of sorts, if you could call it that. It looks as if he’s absorbed most of her dominion with the exception of what the other two major factions here have taken. All of the lesser, unaffiliated lords are of no consequence. They’ll move with the tide once they see which way it’s flowing.”

Trevor was starting to feel a little less confused. Vampire politics really weren’t all that dissimilar to a bunch of bullies in a schoolyard. Or a bunch of bullies from the schoolyard once they grew up and someone handed them weapons. Or a crucifix. Trevor knew all about bullies. He’d killed lots of them. So, having found his footing in this conversation finally, he dug deeper.

“Is one of the major players the redhead? She’s got balls, that one. I had no idea what she was saying to Carmilla’s big armored bitch when they started arguing but it sounded like a lot of ‘fuck you’, so she doesn’t seem so bad.”

Hector nodded. “That’s Halldis. She previously served under one of your father’s vassals, Alucard, and I believe he was her sire. His name was Godbrand.”

Trevor caught on to Hector’s choice of words. “Uh...his name _‘was’_ Godbrand?”

“That’s right. Past tense. It’s an interesting story. He actually disappeared before the castle was moved to Braila. I’d assumed Dracula killed him for his insolence until Isaac told me that he’d been the one to do it.”

Trevor sighed. “Why doesn’t it surprise me that Isaac went around killing Dracula’s other generals just for the hell of it?”

“Rest assured, Godbrand deserved it, Belmont. He was brash and ignorant and worried more about where he could bury his dick and what he could sink his fangs into than anything else.”

“Does that mean this Halldis person is only worried about eating and fucking too?”

“Strangely, not from what I’ve observed. I don’t know her personally, but you must have noticed she and her people keep their humans in good condition _and arm them._ I also know that she only brought a small number with her inside the castle. One human in particular that I’ve always seen beside her when they’ve come to petition is not here now. I believe she might be keeping a reserve force safe somewhere, but I also think she’s protecting some of them as well, specifically that human.”

“A commendable strategy.” Adrian said thoughtfully. “And very unlike the motivations of her sire.”

Trevor had to admit he was even more curious about her now but as Adrian had said, it wasn’t worth liking her yet. And there was still one more bloodsucker overlord to add to the fray.

“So who’s the last one we need to worry about?”

“The last one might be the least predictable.” Hector warned. “Rolf and Halldis are the larger personalities, but Cassius is not to be trifled with. He never accepted Carmilla as someone who could assume total control over Dracula’s collected forces, so he did not follow her in her attempt to take this castle.”

“Lucky him. Was he the one with the lock-step soldiers?”

“Yes, and he sired every one of those lock-step soldiers himself. He has total control over his people and there is no dissent within his ranks. His captains have been with him for centuries. Fighting them off would be a match for even the two of you, so I would advise caution.”

“That is a considerable amount of information, thank you Hector.” Adrian just stood there looking pensive for a while until Trevor decided to give him a nudge.

“Are we planning on letting them all simmer until tonight? I still think that Rolf asshole is gonna be the first one to do something stupid. We could always go kill him now and save time later?”

It was too much to hope that Adrian would agree. 

“I said I would let them rest until nightfall, and I shall. If one of them hangs themselves by crossing us in the meantime, then let them be an example to the others. For now, we should go down to the hold and see if there’s anything we can uncover ourselves until Sypha arrives.”

~

Adrian wasn’t sure why the walk down to the manor felt like a march to the gallows but it did. It was pouring rain when they went outside and while they were getting soaked he decided the first order of business once they dealt with all of this would be to build an underground passage connecting the castle and the hold. If not simply for convenience, it was possible that Trevor would soon need a path between his two homes that did not involve potential exposure to sunlight.

Once inside, Adrian removed his coat and draped it over a banister to dry. Hector ran his fingers through his hair to slick it away from his face and lit them a few torches. Trevor just shook himself off like a dog and kept walking. 

It had been some time since Adrian was last down here. He noticed that Trevor had finally made his own personal mark on the place when they passed a set of knocked over shelves, piles of fallen books, a distance mirror shattered to pieces and a scorched table covered in singed parchment and soda ash. He couldn’t stop himself from commenting.

“Trevor, do you think perhaps Hector and I should search by ourselves, lest you destroy what we’re looking for before we even find it?”

“Oh aren’t you funny.” He grumbled, then he paused at the burned table to finger at some of the paper scraps. “These were the ones my dad wrote.” He said softly. “Don’t suppose we’ll see him floating around down here after what happened in the dream?”

They both knew he wasn’t asking to be contradicted. The answer was, of course, no. Trevor’s father sacrificing himself, and Adrian’s father all but confirming the finality of the selfless act was an end as could only happen to one who had passed and then been raised once already. Adrian put a hand on Trevor’s shoulder. 

“Your father seemed to want nothing more than to help you. I swear I’ll make his sacrifice worth it.”

Trevor only laughed and walked away, leaving Adrian to follow, somewhat confused. 

“Adrian, if my father is in hell right now, I feel sorry for the devil.”

Trevor’s resilience never ceased to amaze and Adrian swore to make all of Trevor’s sacrifices worth it in the end as well. 

“He seemed like he was quite an imposing man, your father, literally and figuratively. From what I saw when he came to me in my dream, you look very much like him. Excluding your stature, that is. Were you the runt of your family by any chance, Belmont?”

“Runt or not, I can still bring you to your knees, Alucard.”

Hector coughed loudly and brought their attention to the spot he’d led them to. They’d come to an area where all the books were on shelves within large caged alcoves, locked up behind thick iron bars and chains pulled through the latches that opened them. There was something heavy in the air, and mingling with the smell of damp and mold, there was another scent that caught in Adrian’s nose, something acrid and foul. 

“There’s black magic here.” He said aloud, not that it wasn’t obvious to all of them. 

Trevor rattled one of the cages experimentally. “Do these things have wards on them or can you just rip off the locks?”

“Let’s see, shall we?” Adrian grabbed the nearest set of padlocked chains and pulled. To their collective surprise, the metal broke and the gate swung open allowing them access to the shelves therein. He dropped the chains to the floor and looked down at his hand. There was a small burn on his palm and a thin line of smoke trailed up from his skin but it quickly dissipated. Trevor peered over his shoulder and took hold of his wrist to have a look at the damage.

“These locks were probably doused in holy water at some point.” He said as he furrowed his brow and asked with concern in his voice, “How is it?”

“Not nearly as bad as your Morning Star.” Adrian offered with a sly smirk. “Perhaps I’m developing a tolerance.”

Trevor rolled his eyes and threw his hand down. “Well get on with the rest of them then.”

Adrian moved to the next row of sequestered shelves. “Merciless as usual I see, Belmont.”

Hector had already started gathering books. He threw some at Trevor who just barely caught them. “Less talking.” He ordered. “More reading.”

Trevor flipped through the pages of one of the books then handed it back to Hector. “Well I can’t read this one. I don’t even recognize any of these letters let alone what language it is.”

“You’re proficiency with even your native tongue is questionable...” Adrian muttered as he ripped off another lock with an accompanying hiss of his flesh. He shook the smoke off and kept working.

“Yeah, exactly, so why don’t I go back to the castle and keep an eye on the vampires for us? They’re probably crawling all over the keep by now sharpening their fangs and plotting our deaths.”

“And what have we been doing, if not the same?” Adrian countered. “For the moment, the vampires are inconsequential. The fate of your immortal soul, however, is not and thus it takes priority.”

“Oh come on, you two don’t need me down here. Are you scared I’ll say something rude to pick a fight? I promise I won’t even talk to them. I won’t say anything at all. It’s not like they don’t know I’m a Belmont. I’ll just make sure they stay in line and if they step out of line, then I’ll kill them. Belmonts are in the business of killing vampires, not talking to them.”

“You talked to me.” Adrian replied dryly. 

“And look where that got me.”

“I’m hurt, Belmont.”

“I thought you liked it when I hurt you, Alucard?”

Hector interrupted their exchange by shoving another book at Trevor’s chest and repeating more firmly,

 _“Less talking. More reading._ This one’s in Latin. I know you can read that, so get to it. And for god’s sake, Belmont, _do not_ fall asleep this time.”

Again Adrian was grateful for Hector. He saw so clearly now what his father had seen in the man. He was someone with a unique and fragile core of humanity, but he was also someone uncompromising and dangerous. 

Perhaps that was the common foundation of the individuals he realized he could now consider his family. Though not of shared blood, those who had come to influence his life were no less meaningful to him than his mother and his father. Trevor especially and for obvious reasons, but also Sypha, fierce yet kind. Hector, savage yet precocious. Isaac, brutal yet wise.

Each step in this life he was living, this life that he would never have envisioned for himself, brought new discoveries. Each secret of understanding he managed to unlock made him feel more... _human._ It was strange that at a time when he must embrace the legacy of his father, these feelings of humanity crept in but he knew he would need to have faith in the fact that it all meant something. 

So they poured over ancient books that might unlock the secrets of Trevor’s humanity in the hope that Adrian wouldn’t have to take it away before they were both ready to make that change.

Trevor was surprisingly diligent. They only had to jab him awake a few times. Adrian felt for him. He must be exhausted but it was too risky to let him fall asleep not knowing what would be waiting on the other side of his dreams.

When he noticed Hector moving to refresh the stack of books Trevor was assigned, he stopped him. 

“Trevor, you should go outside for some air. It sounds like the rain has stopped and I can fetch you another one of Sypha’s…”

All three of them jumped and turned when someone sneezed loudly behind them. 

“It _hasn’t_ stopped raining. And if you want anything of _Sypha’s_ ever again, you’ll need to _learn some manners and ask properly!”_

And there Sypha was in the flesh. _Glaring daggers at all three of them._  

Her robes were drenched and filthy. She was spattered with mud in places and there were a few small twigs caught on snags in her hem. Her hair was windswept and disheveled and a stray leaf was stuck in her fringe. She plucked it out and blew away the tangled strands covering her face with a puff of air. Her cheeks were red and chapped. And she was only wearing one shoe. 

“Sypha!” Trevor smiled and rose from where he was sat on the floor to greet her. Adrian almost pulled him back for his own protection, _Hector had already taken two retreating steps,_ but she held her hand up to stop him mid-stride.

 _“No.”_ Was the only word she afforded Trevor directly. “Mama and Papa need to speak first.”

Adrian stepped forward. “Sypha, we’re…”

“Shh!” And she cut him off too. _“Not you.”_

She walked past Trevor and Adrian both, dripping puddles on the floor as she went and came to stand in front of Hector. She stabbed one finger right in the middle of his chest and perched her other hand on her hip. 

“You sent a _giant, flying demon_ to drag me here in the middle of a thunderstorm, without telling me why and _without asking._ Someone better be _dying,_ because if not, I’m going to kill _all of you.”_


	11. Hope

Trevor stepped up and fearlessly dove into the fray. 

What little honor he had left wouldn’t allow him to let someone else take the blame for his dumb fucking family’s mistakes, so he inserted himself between Hector’s admirable bravery and Sypha’s quite justified fury.

“Put the magic down Sypha, none of this is Hector’s fault.” He had to add though, “Maybe sending a demon to kidnap you wasn’t the best strategy but he only did it to help us. And no one is dying right at the moment, but I might die soon. Or lose my soul. Or Adrian may need to make me into a vampire. So, we really do need your help...with all of that...sooner, rather than later.” 

Trevor slowed his speech then paused and absorbed Sypha’s wide-eyed silence. Her mouth was opened into a little _o_ shape. He couldn’t tell if she was surprised at the gravity of the situation, surprised at the absurdity of the situation, or just thinking about the cleanest way to kill them all without ruining any books. 

When no one else spoke despite him having given ample opportunity, he qualified their predicament for clarity’s sake, although he thought what he’d said was pretty clear already: pending death, soul in danger, vampire. Honestly, in the grand scheme of their friendship, these sorts of things were hardly out of bounds.

“We decided that together, by the way. Adrian and I. The...vampire turning part.”

Sypha shifted her eyes to Adrian, both of them still silent. If Trevor expected praise regarding his and Adrian’s very important joint decision making on the commitment front, it looked like he was going to be disappointed. He marched on regardless. 

“What I mean is, I’ll need to be a vampire eventually anyway but better to take our time with that and not rush it. At least that’s what Adrian says.”

But Adrian was smart so he wasn’t saying shit at the moment. He was, however, ready with a chair and, exercising impeccable timing, he slid it directly behind Sypha. As she lowered herself down to sit, she closed her eyes, shook her head and rubbed at her forehead. 

There seemed to be a lot of exasperated and disappointed looks going around lately but Trevor refused to take all the blame.

“Sypha, I swear none of this is my fault. Or our fault. Or anyone’s fault here.”

Sypha leaned back in her seat with a little squelch of her drenched robes against the chair back. She sighed out her frustration and then asked the heavens a good question.

_“Where do I even start?”_

Trevor didn’t answer her because he thought that was probably rhetorical and, frankly, he understood the feeling. He had no idea where to fucking start either. 

It was Hector’s turn then for well-timed helpfulness. And also a convenient exit strategy.

“Let’s start by getting you a change of clothes. I’ll go back to the castle.” He moved to escape, but Sypha half-stood and stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Wait, I’m coming too. The three of you owe me a change of clothes _and_ a warm bath. And then you can try to do better explaining yourselves over tea because whatever _that_ was,” she waved her hand dismissively at Trevor, “made no sense at all. Really Trevor, I’d hoped you would have stopped drinking if only to spare Adrian, but I guess I was wrong.”

She tried to leave, but Adrian gently encouraged her to sit back down.

“It would be better if you did not go into the castle yet. At least until you know everything. I was forced to hold court and the vampires are in residence at the moment. It complicates things.”

Another sigh. Another rub at what was most likely a rapidly growing headache in her temples. 

“Vampires. At court. Of course. _Of course._ Alright fine. Hector, _go._ You two, _stay._ And tell me _everything_ this time.”

As usual, Sypha’s ability to soldier through crazy shit without batting an eye made Trevor appreciate her even more. Once her permission was given, Hector disappeared like a man freed from a heavy burden, namely two grown men who picked a fight with Satan and now needed to beg an agnostic witch for help. 

Adrian pulled up two more chairs so they could all sit and got his coat to warm Sypha up until Hector returned with dry clothes. 

After denying the accusation that he was intoxicated, Trevor took a deep breath and explained from the very beginning. He started with the dead vampire in the woods, but left out the fact that they’d reanimated it. Adrian then moved on to tell about how he’d dreamt of their fathers, but left out the subsequent violent sex he and Trevor had in the crypt immediately following. Trevor took over again and shared their encounter with the devil, but neglected to mention Adrian’s snake bite…

A pattern was emerging. And it was clear Sypha knew they were most certainly _not_ telling her everything and only giving her half truths, but she let them continue and did not comment. 

By the time they finished describing the vampires’ audience with Adrian, _-conveniently withholding a description of their activities in the sex bondage room afterwards-_ Hector had returned with clothes, shoes, and hot tea. 

Sypha kept any commentary to herself and accepted Hector’s offerings while he directed her to somewhere she could change. 

“There’s a small study around the corner there where you can have some privacy. And for the record, I am sorry for the urgency with which I brought you here, but time was of the essence because as Trevor said, we believe his life to be in grave danger.”

“Only Trevor’s life?” 

Her question was blase at best.

“Hey, what do you mean _‘only Trevor’s life’?_ Aren’t I enough to warrant a speedy trip on a flying demon in the rain?”

Sypha took a sip of tea and patted him on the arm. “Ask me that question again once I see what we’re dealing with. Hector said in his letters the two of you have barely left your room let alone the castle. How in the world you managed to find trouble from between your bed sheets is beyond me.”

“Trouble appears to find us, Sypha, not the other way round.” Adrian said sadly.

Sypha only pursed her face into the determined little frown she adopted when she got serious then she took her clothes and her tea and went to change. 

Adrian stood and started pulling books from the shelves again. “That went more smoothly than I’d anticipated.”

Hector turned to a different shelf. “She hasn’t met the vampires yet.”

Trevor stayed in his chair. “Or Satan.”

“Mm.” Adrian concurred. “It would be better if none of us had any future encounters with the latter if we can help it. It’s curious that there doesn’t seem to be any information down here at all about that particular topic, neither how to summon a dark lord from hell, nor how to avoid one. The Belmonts are proving inconveniently abstruse once again.”

Trevor didn’t have the will or the desire to contradict Adrian in pointing out his family’s annoying habit of making _absolutely fucking everything_ difficult for him. He let his head fall back and he slouched in his chair. Hector came over and tried to hand him a new stack of practically disintegrating tomes but he refused to take them.

“No thanks.” He said, suddenly feeling too tired to read one more pointless word. “I quit.”

“I’m not sure quitting is an option available to us right now, Belmont.” Hector looked down at him sympathetically, but he still tried to give him the books again. 

Trevor pushed them away. “I don’t just mean I quit having to rummage through these dusty books. I mean I quit being a Belmont.”

Adrian glanced up from the book he was reading. Trevor continued to ramble. 

“Everyone’s already made me into your consort, haven’t they? Even the devil thinks he needs to fight you for me. I practically have as much of your blood in me as my own by now. And we both know there’s no way out of you making me a vampire at some point. So there you have it. Congratulations to us. I’m not a damn Belmont anymore. I’m Trevor Fucking Tepes.”

Hector blinked once, then turned away as if he’d never tried to talk to Trevor in the first place and resumed browsing the shelves. Adrian looked back down at his book, unimpressed.

“I’m flattered Trevor, but I imagine that in the eyes of the devil, a Belmont by any other name is still a Belmont. Besides, I find I’ve grown accustomed to having a Belmont in my bed.”

“See. Just like I’ve always said. Teenagers in the bodies of adults.” Sypha had returned, now wearing a conglomeration of all three of the men's clothes that Hector had pulled together, every piece over-sized on her and looking only slightly less bedraggled than when she’d arrived. “I think most of what you two love about each other is that you think no one approves, but the joke’s on you. Everyone is perfectly happy that you’re together because it saves the rest of us from having to deal with you. Most of the time at least.”

She walked over to Trevor and put her hands on her hips. “So, _Trevor Tepes,_ did you know that there’s a very odd magical ward surrounding that study I was just in?”

Trevor sat up straight. “I...um…no?”

Hector’s ears perked up and he stepped out from around his shelf. Adrian took notice as well and set his book down.

“Show us.” Adrian directed.

Sypha and Hector led the way around the corner to where a nondescript door with a simple lock-less knob was situated in an otherwise empty alcove. 

Hector opened the door and Sypha went inside. He followed her in more slowly and Trevor stepped across the threshold behind him. Since they walked right in without any special nonsense words or wavy hand gestures, it didn’t seem to him like there were any wards on the place. 

The room was hardly bigger than a closet, with little more in it than a chair and a small writing desk with a single drawer. On top of the desk was an inkwell long gone dry, a quill set atop a stack of blank sheets of parchment, and a letter seal with the Belmont crest on it. The floor was bare wood and the wall paneling smelled of cedar. 

Trevor was thinking it would be a tight fit inside with the four of them when he noticed that Adrian was hovering at the doorway, just standing there and not entering. He looked slightly flushed and his whole body was stiff with concentration, almost as if he was trying not to be sick. 

“Adrian, you alright?” Trevor stepped out and went to him.

“I...I don’t want to go in there. It is...I feel…” He frowned and took a step back.

Sypha finished his sentence for him. “You feel sick don’t you? I told you there was a strange ward here. To be honest, it's making me a little queasy too. Hector, you’ve been here before, correct? Have you ever felt like there was something... _wrong_ about this particular room?”

“Now that you mention it, the first time I came across it, and now too actually, I felt nauseated. I’m not fond of the smell of cedar wood though. It reminds me of the fence posts surrounding the farm where I grew up so I attributed my aversion to that. Belmont, do you not feel ill as well?”

Trevor shrugged and shook his head. “Nope.”

Adrian took another step back. “Is this a spell you can break or manipulate, Sypha?”

“I already made an attempt and failed, so no, but I don’t think we’ll need to.” She walked over to the desk and pointed. “It’s this drawer. I can’t open it. But not because it’s locked, it’s just that when I tried I felt even more sick and I couldn’t force myself to do it.” 

Hector went to stand beside her. “Let me try…” He reached out his hand, but before he could even touch the desk he started to turn green and aborted the action immediately. 

“That’s exactly what happened to me.” Sypha said. “So, Adrian can’t even come in here, and Hector and I are put off enough to not want to stay and poke around. But you feel fine, don’t you Treffy?”

“I...guess.” Trevor didn’t like where this was going. 

“Alright then. Open this drawer for us.” Sypha ordered.

Trevor hesitated. “Is there going to be something fucked up in there?” He asked suspiciously, as if Sypha would know.

“It’s _your_ family we’re dealing with here, Trevor.” Sypha said. “So... _maybe?”_

 _“Fucking Belmonts.”_ He swore under his breath as he stepped forward and yanked on the handle before he could talk himself out of it. 

He pulled the drawer open with such force that it came free entirely, providing no resistance to him whatsoever and all of them tensed up, _somewhat embarrassingly,_ expecting to find who knows what sort of evil shit inside. 

What they got instead were letters. Flying out everywhere and fluttering to the floor, were dozens of letters, each with a red wax seal and each addressed in his father’s handwriting. 

They let out a collective breath and Trevor bent to set down the drawer and pick up one of the letters. When he read who it was addressed to, the only thing he could do was swear again.

_“Fucking Belmonts.”_

~

Adrian watched from as far away as he could get and still see what was happening. Trevor picked up one of the letters and groaned long and loud, dropping his head in... _shame? resignation? surrender?_ Most likely, all three. 

“Fucking Belmonts.” Trevor swore and he threw the letter down.

Hector bent to pick it back up, read the script on the front and then he looked over at Adrian.

“This…” he scanned the rest of the letters on the floor, “all of these...they’re addressed to your father, Alucard.”

“And that’s _my_ father’s handwriting on them.” Trevor added.

Sypha squeezed Trevor’s shoulder in silent support and then she started gathering up all the undelivered correspondence with Hector’s help. Trevor just sat on the floor and watched them.

“Come on.” Sypha encouraged when she and Hector had their hands full. “Let’s go and sit somewhere Adrian isn’t uncomfortable, hm?”

Adrian was relieved to move away from that alcove, but he respected the genius of a ward that would only allow those of shared blood to enter. Blood magic spells were all too familiar to him. They permeated the castle and even if Trevor didn’t consciously acknowledge it, he lived and walked amidst the dark energies crafted from Dracula’s blood every day. 

When he rose from the floor silently, with his head down, Adrian assumed Trevor had come to the obvious conclusion that his own father must have been adept at blood craft. And that he could no longer deny the Belmonts were black magicians. 

No matter how much Trevor had grown to accept about himself and his chosen life, it must still be difficult when you realize the realities of your past and the family you thought you knew were all actually very different than the pedestaled memories of a tender child who had grown up with nothing but those memories.

Hector and Sypha found them a large table to sit at and cleared it off so they could spread out the letters. Everyone looked to Trevor and they waited. 

“No need to stand on ceremony. The old man’s dead. Might as well find out why he wrote a bunch of letters to his mortal enemy that he would never actually be able to send to a _moving magical fortress.”_

Trevor picked two up randomly and handed one each over to Hector and Sypha. They immediately broke the seals and started reading. Trevor picked up one for himself and he sat down beside Adrian.

“There are dates on them. This is the earliest one, it looks like.” He said, as he tore it open and held it up so they could read it together. He scooted in closer and rested his other hand on Adrian’s leg under the table, a light but grounding touch. It was Trevor’s way of quietly holding onto something solid, something real, and something that was his. Adrian covered his hand with his own, and started reading…

~

_To the Honorable Lord, Vlad Dracula Tepes,_

_I must first apologize for not knowing how to properly address you. I am not sure what titles you hold among your kind. And though we have not met, my father told me you were honorable, so I will honor him by calling you such._

_It is because of him that I write this letter to you now, for he has died. I have little hope of you ever receiving or reading this for yourself, but it was one of his final wishes that, should I one day have the opportunity to speak with you, I relay the sentiment that he respected you greatly._

_I may need to burn this letter once I finish writing it, or find a way to conceal it permanently from the world, for these are things that should not be said. I was thirteen years old when he told me what all Belmonts must learn. It was the story of our far away ancestor from a far away land who made a sacrifice quite a long time ago, the consequences of which every Belmont must live with._

_We must live with it, but never speak of it. We must act on it each day but never admit to it. We must die with the secret in our hearts and hope it will perpetuate for generations to come, for the survival of our line depends upon it._

_With all that, we certainly should not be writing it down for posterity, but I find I am unconcerned about what all the dead Belmonts might think of me for doing this. They are the ones to blame in the first place._

_I also find myself wondering if you know? If you have always known our lot? Do you hold court with the devil and laugh together over our folly? Does he wait with bated breath for one of us to falter, to grow weary, grow bitter, and end it all by ending you? It was he who made us strong so we could kill you. Strong enough to hunt all the creatures of the night and yet live on ourselves, hunt after hunt, year after year. It must have seemed clever at the time, by human standards at least, to offer our own souls in return for power only after you were dead. It must have seemed like the easiest thing in the world to cheat hell by making sure you never died, even while all the evils of the world around you fell._

_I lose nothing by admitting that only a Belmont would be stupid enough to try and dupe the devil._

_I suppose I should at least be grateful that the devil isn’t picky. Maybe we’re the ones being cheated. Maybe it was you who put it in his head to agree to the ridiculous bargain, thus leaving you alive while we worked to wipe out all those demons lesser than the two of you. For all the damned souls we sent to hell to feed his forges, the Belmonts would never come for you and we could fight on forever. Our souls would be safe and sound, but every day forced to roll through an endless cycle of death. On and on. Forever. You alive. The devil’s appetite sated. And the Belmonts stuck in the purgatory between. Powerful enough to command death to a degree, but only under the auspices of death’s true commander._

_When my father finally succumbed to his own death, I felt the curse in my blood grow stronger. It made me stronger. Magic I never knew I possessed bubbled to the surface like poison in a cauldron. He warned me it would happen, once I was the family’s head. I told myself I could resist it, that I would find another way, but climbing up from a centuries deep grave that the Belmonts had dug for themselves proved more complicated than I anticipated. My father also warned me that running from our lot in life was not an option. He said I would never be able to turn away those seeking our help, because we were the only ones who could. He was right on that count as well._

_I now reap souls as my predecessors did. As my father before me, and his father before him, I hunt demons. I hunt your kind, Lord Dracula. But I cannot hunt you._

_For now, I must do my duty, but perhaps one day you and I will take tea together as you did with my father. Or perhaps one day I will find a way to have nothing more to do with you at all and there will never be another Belmont who bears this burden._

_And so, I wish you good health, sir, as my dead father wished of me, for the good health of my own soul is bound to yours._

_Sincerely, Gabriel Belmont._

~

Trevor put down the letter. His grip on Adrian’s leg had tightened and so Adrian tightened his grip over Trevor’s hand. He slotted their fingers together and searched Trevor’s face for a clue as to what he was thinking but for once, the man was strangely unreadable. Adrian wondered if he’d simply spoken so much and endured such raw emotion over the past several hours that he had no words left to comment or feelings to show about what they’d just read. 

Sypha and Hector, having read through several letters already, seemed equally bewildered by this trove of candor and the realization that all of their assumptions about the Belmont dynasty, until now, had been nothing but shadows and lies. 

Sypha pushed the letter she’d just finished reading across the table to them. 

“Read this one next, Trevor. It...he...talks about you. About both of you actually.”

Trevor took the letter. Because what else could he do?

~

_Lord Tepes,_

_It seems I have cause to write you once again, as I have recently learned you have become a father. For this reason, I offer my heartfelt felicitations. The birth of my own son was a milestone in my life to rival none other. I can only imagine it is the same for you._

_I never planned on having a child. I wonder if it was something you had ever envisioned for yourself or if, like me, you opened your eyes to the world one day and found yourself with a crying babe in your arms and a woman you loved like nothing else sleeping peacefully in your bed._

_My knowledge may not hold a candle to your own, but I know more about this world than I care to and one of the things I know without question is that love is a vicious beast. More frightening than any demon. More devastating than any force of nature. One moment we are men, foolishly thinking we can steer our own destiny. The next moment, love takes us and we are fools, cowering before the fates and begging them to please keep our families safe._

_When I was younger, I was determined to end the Belmont line with myself. I could not justify fathering a child and passing on a fate such as ours. Love leads us where it will, however, and all things change._

_All things change save you, perhaps, for you endure as you always have, and as I hope you will continue, now especially since you have a new life to see flourish._

_So, again, and as always, I offer you good health as well as happiness with your family. You will forgive me, though, for hoping that our sons never meet. I hope they will never have reason to, because if being a father has taught me anything it is that surrendering to the fates is not an option. Those jealous harpies rarely look favorably on us mere mortals for the mortal coil is weak, I fear, and destined to unravel. With renewed purpose, I must find a way to free my son from the burdens of our Belmont blood before that happens._

_And then, perhaps, both our sons can grow up as we would wish them to and not as the fates would force them._

_Sincerely, Gabriel._

~

Another letter set down upon the table. Another indecipherable expression on Trevor’s face. These windows into the mind of his father were haunting and disconcerting. Adrian was pulled in opposite directions, part of him wanting to devour their collected contents and another part of him wanting to throw them on a fire. 

Hector had gone through nearly all of them by now and he sat across the table, arms crossed over his chest, looking at the yellowed sheets and black ink with a mix of curiosity and worry.

“Your father must have written these letters as a diary of sorts, Belmont. Did you know anything about them?”

Trevor shook his head, still letting no emotion show. “When he wasn’t hunting or traveling, he was down here researching and writing, but I definitely didn’t know about any of this.”

Sypha slowly passed another letter to them across the table, though it looked as if she didn’t want to do it. “Trevor, this is the most recent one. And the last.”

Trevor took the letter, but instead of opening it, he handed it over to Adrian and stood.

“Here. You read it. It doesn’t really matter anyway. And I need some air.”

No one stopped him, but Adrian felt a terrible, empty, hollow feeling in his chest grow as Trevor left them. He knew leaving him be for now and giving him some time was the best thing he could do, but it made letting him walk away no easier. He restrained his urge to go after him though and instead did as he was told. He read the final letter Trevor’s father wrote to Dracula. 

~

_Lord Tepes,_

_It has been a long while since I last wrote, but my absence was for a good cause. I met a clan of Speakers in my travels and have recently spent time learning from them. They have a unique history and many stories to tell. Sadly, the proud bastards refuse to write anything down so absorbing their knowledge took a great deal more time and effort than I wanted to spend, especially with the Church breathing down my neck._

_I suppose consorting with a group of heathens does nothing to support my continued claims to the bishops that I have nothing but Christian good will and a healthy fear of God in my heart._

_The dark places have been quiet of late and the night creatures all seem to be hibernating. Is it because you yourself have grown peaceful? I heard whispers that you have been traveling the land as well. I doubt we are seeking the same knowledge but I find that the idea of you and I both venturing forth for our families is a comforting thought._

_With peace comes complacency, however, and the Church seems to have forgotten the many reasons they needed the Belmonts in the past. There are more priests now that whisper suspiciously when I walk by than come to my door for help as they used to. And yet, I’ve come so far and learned so much. I cannot stop here._

_How old is your son now? I wish I knew. My Trevor is nearly thirteen. I’ll have to tell him everything soon. I’ll have to give him that same damn speech my father gave to me._

_We Belmonts bargained with Satan, son. He made us strong so we could kill Dracula. But if Dracula never dies, we’ll never have to pay our debts and we can still use our strength to do good. The devil gets his souls either way. Better those souls not be ours._

_It was once my hope that I would never have to give him that speech. I’m not sure if seeing it written down in my own handwriting makes me want to laugh at the irony of it all or cry at its ugliness._

_The best I can hope for now is that when I tell him what his name means and how his blood is cursed that I can also tell him how to undo it. Lucky for me, hope springs eternal._

_He knows how to use his weapons. Our weapons. I made sure of that. He knows what he is expected to do and how to survive. But he is still so young and though he has grown nearly into a man, the only thing I see when I look at him is the babe crying beautifully and safely in my arms, once upon a time, when I thought I had all the time in the world._

_I must make due with what little time I have left._

_Sincerely, Gabriel._


	12. Pragmatism

Trevor sat in His Tree and stared out at the world with new eyes. 

Nothing had actually happened between the time he walked into the Belmont hold that morning and the time he walked out of it just now, but it felt like things were changed. Though the rain had ebbed to a trickle, a cloud still seemed to be hanging over him. 

He let his legs dangle and he leaned back against the rough trunk. It was a hell of a lot easier to climb the thing now that he was grown compared to when he was younger, but for every one thing that came easier to him these days, tenfold more were that much harder. 

Swallowing down the gory truth about his family fell into the latter category. 

His days of enjoying deliberate ignorance, cavalier denial and numb indifference were over. The Belmonts really were no better than the vermin they hunted. He supposed he always thought that about himself, but not about his forebears. Maybe it was just human tendency to think better of the dead than they actually were, especially when they were family, but somewhere in the back of his head he held onto a fantasy that at some point in his noble past there was at least a thread of actual nobility of spirit. It made things seem slightly less futile. It made the Belmonts’ intimate dance with mortality across the centuries seem worth it.

_So much for that._

He’d spent a lot of quiet moments, back in his younger days, contemplating his own mortality, not that he knew he was doing it at the time. His thoughts often used to linger on how he ended up at wherever shithole he found himself in, and he’d worry, _-albeit probably not as much as he should have-_ how he would manage to get out of said shithole. Or if he’d even be able to.

If wondering how you were going to climb out of a shithole wasn’t the very definition of contemplating one’s own mortality, he didn’t know what was.

All those nights he limped away after a fight, nursing injuries he thought might finally be the end of him. _Mortality._ All those mornings he was still so blind drunk his senses were reduced to nothing but a colorless blur and white noise. _Mortality._ All those evenings he would watch the sun set, and try to talk himself out of hoping he wouldn’t have to see it rise again. _Mortality._

And all those times he outright yelled the question into the void, _why am I still here?_ Same thing.

No one ever answered him. Eventually, and despite his lack of belief in a strictly Christian sense, he settled on blaming God for fucking with him, even as he took secret pride in the fact that he, among all others, was strong enough to endure in spite of the malicious Almighty’s cruel whims. The delusion kept him going often enough. 

Turned out all this time, though, he was actually living on the devil’s borrowed coin. And for all that he thought he was just about the shittiest Belmont to ever bear the name, it turned out he was actually _too_ good. He should’ve let Dracula do whatever the fuck he wanted with the world. 

“This is all Sypha’s fault.” He mumbled to himself.

“Of all the many people at fault here, Trevor, spanning years and generations, Sypha certainly is not one of them.”

Trevor startled and almost fell off his branch at the voice that suddenly appeared in his ear, but Adrian caught his arm in a firm grip as he settled down to sit beside him high up in the tree. Trevor relaxed back. 

“Fly up here, did you?”

“I’ve been watching you from the top branches for a little while now.” Adrian inclined his head towards where a group of bats hung in rows side by side. They all had their wings wrapped around their bodies, fast asleep until nightfall. 

“Bats, huh?” Trevor questioned. “A little predictable, don’t you think? I like you better as a wolf.”

He really didn’t feel like talking, but at least he felt less stifled up here than he had in the hold, buried under his father’s letters. And Adrian’s presence wasn’t intrusive the way other people’s presence often was. Irritating sometimes, yes, but never intrusive.

“Whether I walk as a man, run as a wolf or fly as a bat, I am still Adrian.”

Trevor rolled his eyes. “Is this you helping? Is that supposed to be some kind of deep, meaningful analogy?”

“In what sense?” Adrian asked. His feigned innocence was both annoying and condescending. Whether they all decided among themselves to send Adrian out here to make him feel better, or he took it upon himself, it was painfully obvious this was a feeble attempt to reassemble the house of cards that was his existence.

“Are you trying to remind me that I’m still _me_ no matter what? Human, demon-slayer, devil-minion, soon-to-be-vampire, it’s all still Trevor Belmont?”

Adrian continued his innocent act. “I thought we agreed you would forsake the Belmont name in favor of taking mine?”

In spite of himself, Trevor laughed. “And I thought you liked the idea of fucking a Belmont. Hardly as much fun otherwise, right?”

“As you said, you will always be who you are, no matter what you choose to call yourself. And no matter what your family did, or how they lived, you have lived your own life and you will continue to do so.”

“Oh please.” Trevor huffed and before he knew it he was taking up the martyr mantle, _not that it would help anything._ “I didn’t have a chance in hell of living ‘my own’ life. My dad knew about all this, and it sounded like he tried pretty hard to live his own life. Look where it got him.”

Adrian persisted in the thankless task of attempting to provide comfort. “To me, it sounded as if your father made the choice to sacrifice his own life trying to give you a chance to live yours. His ultimate shortcomings do not negate the intention.” 

 _“Bullshit.”_ Trevor persisted in his bitterness because embracing it felt better than reasoning through it. 

What he was feeling now wasn’t like any discord he ever had or ever would ever have with Adrian. Confronting it now made that fact starkly apparent. Whatever uncomfortable emotions or hard conversations they two might share, ultimately, Trevor knew something about it all was _worth it._ There was something between them that _mattered._ It was worth being uncomfortable and reasoning through shit he’d otherwise rather walk away from. And, yes, he’d done his fair share of walking away from Adrian, but each time he circled back and was better off for it. Each step earned him something good while simultaneously feeling like he was throwing something bad off his shoulders that he’d carried for too long. 

But this. _This_ was not _that._ He didn’t care _why_ his distant relative did this, or _what in the unholy fuck he was thinking_ when he did it. He didn’t care how it was done or why all the fucking Belmonts who came after just went along with it. At least until his dad...

But even so, none of this bullshit had any place in his new life. All of this Belmont baggage was unfortunate to say the least, but there was nothing Trevor would gain by ‘learning’ from it or accepting it, or justifying it. He just wanted to get the fuck away from it. Because overcoming it and moving the fuck on was the only thing that felt right. 

“Listen Adrian.” He continued and he looked in Adrian’s eyes, hoping he could make him understand. “If I was old enough for my dad to train me with lethal weapons so I could kill demons, then I was old enough to hear about our family being in bed with Satan. And maybe someone could have also mentioned that killing Dracula was strictly off limits. That would’ve been _something_ at least. I might have had a chance then.”

Adrian’s brow furrowed deeper and deeper and Trevor could feel the pity in him through their bond that he’d never speak aloud but couldn’t hide. It just made Trevor angrier so he let out more of the bile festering within. 

“Who knows?” He curled his lip up in disgust at all the pointless memories he didn’t want to have any more. “Maybe if I’d found out the truth back then, I would have admitted to everything the church accused us of. Blasphemy, heresy, apostasy. All of it. Maybe when all was said and done, I would have happily sold out my dead family to reverse the excommunication. I could’ve said all the prayers and done all the penance and then walked away, free and clear, and disappeared into anonymity, instead of feeling like I had a legacy to defend and some fucking higher purpose to live up to.”

Adrian challenged Trevor’s careless claim. “I didn’t believe you the first time you tried to tell me you would have rather been a ‘normal’ human, and I don’t believe you now.”

Trevor ignored him and kept ranting. A moment ago, when he was alone with his own melancholy, he felt almost as hollow as the dead tree they were sitting on. More quiet and brittle than loud and outraged, but now he was riled up and he needed to yell even if it made no difference. 

“I should've let your dad raze this whole fucking place to the ground.” He waved his arm out in a grand gesture of inclusion. “I was about to, you know. I was gonna mind my own fucking business in Gresit. I was there to stave off starvation. That’s it. But the _fucking Belmont_ in me just had to get involved and stick my whip right where it didn’t belong.”

Adrian looked out at the slowly setting sun. He prodded just enough to spark another flare of Trevor’s anger. If it was on purpose so Trevor could keep purging, that too, didn’t matter. 

“I assume that’s the part you’re blaming on Sypha?”

“Exactly! She sounded just like a fucking Belmont. _Help the world. Save the humans._ Blah, blah, blah. Well, I sure saved a whole lot of worthless fucking humans, and I fucked myself good in the process.”

Adrian frowned and changed course. “If you hadn’t dallied in Gresit, we might never have met.”

Trevor threw it right back in his face. “Yeah, well fucking _Satan_ is after you now because of me, so maybe you would’ve been better off if we’d never met.”

 _Ah shit._ Trevor felt immediate regret at his thoughtless tirade. _You don’t mean that. This is all you have now._ He’s _all you have now…_

Trevor closed his eyes and shook his head trying to shake free from all the years of guilt and obligation and duty that, all along, had meant _absolutely nothing._

Just that quick, he was back to feeling like this dead husk of a tree. A skeletal relic, it’s days of vibrant green long since passed, serving only now to warn away others from traveling this path. His tree was changed, and so was he.

What if he’d always known? Would he have built a different life and made his way in the world doing something other than hunting demons? Would he have found a home on some nondescript piece of countryside and found a nondescript human to settle down with? 

He had to admit to himself, he doubted it. Adrian was right. He didn’t know any other life and who’s to say he would have wanted one? Even so, Adrian offered.

“Do you wish to leave this place?”

Trevor looked at him, confused. “What?”

“We can leave. Abandon it all. I’ll take you to my keep below Gresit. Or we could leave the country. The continent even. We can have Hector and Sypha burn the entire hold until there’s nothing left. We can leave the castle to the vampires. They’ll spend the rest of eternity trying to unlock its secrets. And if they do, let them. I find I care for very little in the world anymore but you, Trevor. If you say there is nothing here for you now, then there is nothing here for me either.”

Trevor swallowed against a lump that had risen up in his throat at that speech. It was just like Adrian to offer something like this. Big and dumb and dramatic and self-sacrificing. Trevor knew he was serious too, ready to throw everything away for him. But just like all those times in the past he’d decided to keep going after looking his mortality in its ugly face, he knew he had to keep going this time too. It was up to him to be practical in spite of Adrian’s grandiose tendencies.

“First of all, _you idiot,_ just because my birthright is poisoned doesn’t mean I’m going to let you abandon yours. And second, we both know Hector and Sypha would burn _us_ before they burned all those books. Oh, and third, if Isaac ever found out you let the vampires have the castle he’d hunt us down faster than the devil.”

Adrian leaned his head back and looked up at the mellowing sky. “Then it seems we’ve come back to where we started, with us prying you from your family’s curse. And making you my consort not only in practice but in name as well. There are many ways to wed outside the Christian church, you know. My parents were joined in a pagan handfasting. My mother learned of the practice in one of my father’s books. She told me the ceremony was quite beautiful. I’m not sure her dress would fit you though.”

 _“You are such a fucking asshole...”_ Trevor cursed, but before he could continue with an equivalent mocking remark, Adrian reached up to turn his head towards him with a gentle hand across his cheek. 

“Trevor,” Adrian started, earnest now, and intense in that way that always made Trevor want to shrink away from the attention, “I cannot tell you what to think or how to feel about your family or anything in your life before we met. I can only tell you that you’ve made me a selfish creature, and my view is this: _fuck the past._ Yours. Mine. All of it. Let Hector and Sypha live there with their books and their stories and let them try to find a way for the past to help us, but I refuse to let either of us suffer under its chains any longer and I will not be dictated to by the dead. _We_ are alive and we will live the way we wish. If you want my name, take it. If you want my blood, it’s yours. You’ve already helped me defeat the curse of my past, let me do the same for you and then we’ll move forward together, _free and clear.”_

Adrian echoed Trevor’s hasty words from earlier and brought his other hand up to Trevor’s opposite cheek. He drew him in close. Foreheads pressed together, Adrian spoke against his lips and the heat of his breath was searing even as the sun set behind them taking the warmth of day with it. 

“Fuck the past, Trevor.” He repeated. “I will make you immortal and give you a future better than any Belmont could have wished for you, I swear.”

Trevor was driven to the embarassing act of having to bite the inside of his cheek to quell a stupid grin. What a damn fool he was. He was too old to fall for the promise of a future that was far from certain. Nothing about their situation was resolved. Nothing about it was different. But, in spite of all that, he felt a little better. 

So, he gave in. “You’ll do all that, and the devil be damned, huh?”

“I’ve already told you I would steal you from the hands of the devil himself if I had to, consequences be damned. It seems the fates wanted to challenge my commitment to that statement in a literal way. Now, if you’re through wallowing, come with me.”

“Hey, fuck you, you broody bastard, I can fucking wallow as much as I... _woah, shit!”_  

Trevor couldn’t do anything but flail as Adrian let go of his head and swept him up into his arms right off the branch they were sitting on. 

Then he jumped out of the tree. 

Trevor’s heart stopped and it didn’t start beating again until Adrian landed, feet first, graceful as a damn cat. Like the bastard he was though, he didn’t put Trevor down, he just started walking back to the estate, carrying him.

Trevor was forced to push off his chest and stumble out of his arms. Once he collected himself, he got in his face and pointed a finger right at his nose. 

“Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

Adrian pushed aside his finger and walked past him. “Not even to carry you across the threshold, love?”

Trevor’s nostrils flared. “Don’t call me that. I hate you.”

But when Trevor turned around to follow, he found himself facing the white wolf instead of the blond man. Fucking gold puppy eyes looked up at him. A fucking tail swished happily back and forth. A fucking smug wolfish grin revealed a muzzle full of sharp teeth. And fucking furry ears twitched expectantly.

His shoulders fell, he sighed deeply...and he gave Adrian a scratch. 

The two walked back together, Adrian staying close enough to walk under Trevor’s hand and Trevor staying generous enough to continue to run his fingers through his fur as they went. 

The sky transitioned from maroon to purple to black and the last of the clouds drifted west, letting the moon and stars shine down. The night was quiet but it was in that way that made Trevor think all the normal, innocent things were hiding. Like they all somehow knew a host of vampires was waking and a devil was prowling the earth. It was quiet enough that in the distance towards the manor, a single soft _click_ made Adrian’s ears perk up and he stopped walking.

In the blink of an eye he transformed back into a man. They both looked at each other, nodded once and then ran towards the sound. 

~

Adrian needn’t have worried. When they ran around to the front of the manor and he saw where the noise had come from, he slowed down and Trevor slowed behind him. When Trevor finally noticed what Adrian did, he groaned.

 _“Oh for fuck’s sake._ What in the bloody hell is this now?”

Isaac was standing inside a beam of moonlight pointing a crossbow at the heart of a vampire, arrow nocked at the ready. _It was Halldis_ and her face was twisted in fury, eyes blazing as red as her hair, though they weren’t focused on the weapon threatening her, they were focused on a human that was tied up, gagged and writhing against her restraints, on the ground behind Isaac. 

To complete the scene, Hector’s two winged demons were perched atop a cluster of boulders nearby, and a second vampire, this one dead, was on the ground in front of them, it’s armored breastplate ripped free and a stake plunged deep in it’s chest. The thing had almost completely disintegrated, so much so that before Trevor finished his question, all that was left was it’s armor.

“Isaac.” Adrian greeted.

“Lord Alucard.” Isaac said formally as he tilted his head in deference, all while still keeping his attention on Halldis. 

Everyone stayed where they were except Trevor, who casually strolled over to the tied up human, still thrashing indignantly in the dirt. He looked down at her and gently nudged at her shoulder with his boot. It earned him a hiss from Halldis, but she backed down when Isaac squeezed his finger on the trigger of his crossbow. Trevor then went over to Halldis, being sure to stay out of the path of any potential arrows that might need to be let loose.

“Ahhh, damn. Too bad. It’s you.” He leaned into her face and frowned. “I really wanted to like you but here you are being the nail that sticks up.”

“Now, now, Trevor.” Adrian corrected, amused enough to take his time unwrapping the gift of stupidity these vampires had given him. “Isaac hasn’t killed her yet, so perhaps not all is as it seems. Also, I believe the unfortunate one decaying into dust over there belongs to Rolf, and not Godbrand’s child.”

At the mention of her sire, Halldis bared her fangs and spit on the ground. Apparently Hector was right about her being different from the vampire Isaac eliminated when they all served Dracula. 

Trevor stepped even closer into Halldis’s space, making her very obviously uncomfortable and he spoke right in her ear. The human on the ground squirmed and moaned. Trevor ignored it. 

“To me, it seems like _someone_ was about to try to get into the Belmont hold.”

When Halldis didn’t deny it, keeping her mouth shut and clenching her fists instead, Isaac answered for her.

“When I arrived, I saw this human fighting with that vampire there.” He jerked his head at the empty suit of armor. “She staked him. I was impressed enough to keep from killing her but I was forced to bind her when she attempted to attack me. It was then that this one,” he nodded at Halldis, “emerged from the castle. We’ve not yet had a chance for introductions, though it seems I might know her through her parentage?” He addressed Halldis then, with a hint of self-satisfied pride. “I was the one who killed your sire, but if you think to take revenge, I would caution you against the attempt. He wasn’t worth it.”

Halldis’s eyes went wide at the revelation and the scowl on her face was replaced by the slow spread of a smile. She laughed as she spoke.

 _“You_ killed Godbrand?” She asked, incredulous, but she kept on laughing. “A _human_ killed Godbrand!” More laugher, even louder. 

While Adrian was sure this was all very amusing, his indulgence had a limit. He walked over to Isaac and gestured for him to lower his weapon, which he did immediately. When he walked over to Halldis, she stopped laughing and took a step back but she ran into Trevor, who blocked her retreat. 

Adrian stood before her and decided to dispense with pretense. “What is your intention here when I did not give you leave to exit the castle?”

When put on the spot, she stuttered and answered in a small voice, very unlike her bravado in the throne room. “I...she...needed me.” And she pointed to the tied up human.

Trevor pointed at the remains of the dead vampire. “Uh...I don’t think she really did. Unless you mean she needed you to protect her from Isaac, which, yeah, can’t blame you there.”

“Is this your thrall?” Adrian asked, more curious than anything now.

“She is _not_ enthralled!” 

Halldis was quick to refute what was a perfectly logical assumption. When everyone gave her a questioning look, however, she bit her tongue and offered no more.

“Huh. Alright then.” Trevor said, also seeming to have run out of patience. He pulled out one of his daggers and went over to the human. Halldis almost tried to intervene, but all Adrian had to do was look at her to make her think twice about trying her hand at resistance.

Trevor bent, cut the human free with his knife and removed her gag. As soon as her tongue could wag, it did. 

“He was trying to get into the hold too!” She yelled and pointed at Rolf’s former soldier. “I stopped him, Halldis didn’t know anything about it, I swear!”

Halldis closed her eyes and pursed her lips. Adrian vaguely thought he might know what she was feeling in that moment.

Trevor picked up on the one word that mattered in the human’s accusation. “Uhm…‘he was trying to get into the hold... _too.’?_ So, you were both trying to get into the hold? Just so you know, you don’t get points for winning. You’re lucky my dead family didn’t come out here to kill you. Isaac’s here though, so they may have figured he had it under control. Or they were scared off by him. Tough to say.”

“I...I…” The human hesitated, clearly out of her depth. Her eyes darted back and forth between Trevor, Adrian and Isaac. Halldis dropped her head into her hand.

Adrian was now certain he knew how she felt.

Trevor put away his knife and stood. Isaac set his crossbow down. The human scrambled to her knees and waited. Halldis opened her mouth to speak, but Adrian stopped her with a raise of his hand and then he looked over at Trevor.

They shared a nod of their heads and an unspoken decision.

Trevor turned and walked off towards the manor, shouting back over his shoulder. 

“Come on then.” He beckoned. “You wanted to see the place. Let’s go.”

The human’s jaw dropped. She stayed put. Isaac let out a measured exhale and glared at Adrian with what he would swear was disapproval, but then he turned also and followed Trevor. 

Halldis looked torn, and rightfully so. This human was clearly important to her and she was being put into a position whereby the two of them were about to follow a vampire hunter, the necromancer who killed her sire and Dracula’s son, _-who had proven perhaps only slightly less hostile to her kind than the other two men-_ down into a basement full of horrors. For all she knew, she and her human were about to be ritually sacrificed to some dark god. 

Adrian considered it a good test of the woman’s mettle. And her loyalty.

“Go.” Adrian commanded, leaving no room for refusal. “Bring your human. We have much to discuss.”


	13. Lamentation

While Trevor led Halldis and her human into his partially rebuilt ancestral home, Isaac paused before going inside and positioned himself to have a private moment with Adrian.

Adrian was comforted by the fact that his father’s most loyal friend was now here with them to provide counsel, but he also made sure to brace himself for the well-deserved criticism about to come his way on how he’d ineptly managed the burden of rule thus far. 

They waited until the other three were inside and then Adrian nodded, letting Isaac know he was free to speak his mind.

“I confess, Lord Alucard,” Isaac was respectful in his address even as he cut him down, “that part of me expected to arrive here only to find that the lunatics were running the asylum.” He shifted his eyes briefly towards Hector’s demons and the vampire remains. “Perhaps that is not very far off.”

“Mm. Indeed.” Adrian had no choice but to own a _mea culpa_ and he walked over to the empty suit of armor in front of Hector’s beasts. The demons folded their wings and bowed their heads low as he approached. The imposing silhouette of their bodies against the white disc of the full moon was like the silhouette of the castle writ small. Both were living things crafted in the shadows by the magic of one who sought to bend the dark to his will.

Hector was a master of his craft, but Adrian still felt inadequate in his role, dwarfed by the specter of his father. 

“I seem to have a habit of procrastination when it comes to dealing with threats.” He admitted to Isaac. “I’ll not claim you didn’t warn me.”

“The weight of the responsibility you now bear was heavy on even your father’s shoulders.” Isaac was forgiving until he pulled out the salt to rub into Adrian’s wounds. “Add to that the weight of carrying responsibility for your Belmont and it is a wonder I’ve found you still here at all. I feared the temptation to run off and abandon this life would be too great for you to resist.”

“Don’t think I didn’t offer.” Adrian said dryly. “Sadly, true escape was not something I could have assured ‘my Belmont’, as everyone is so fond of calling him. Our current problem would more than likely have followed us.”

Isaac did not ask for immediate clarification, trusting it would come eventually and exercising patience enough to wait for it. So, since the obligatory admonishments were now taken care of, Isaac set aside the role of surrogate father and assumed his former role of general. 

“Many things appear to have transpired in my absence.” He rested a hand on the pommel of the forging knife at his belt and looked up thoughtfully at Hector’s demons. “I had not thought to see Hector return to creating such magnificent creatures. But I am pleased his art has not disappeared from this world and that his gifts have come to serve a master of his choosing.”

Isaac studied the demons silently for a few moments more, then he turned back to Adrian looking as if he’d come to some sort of decision. Adrian didn’t know how far the man had traveled to return to the castle, nor did he know what sort of path he’d been on in the time since they’d last spoken. All Adrian had to offer him here was a keep full of vampires and a dance with the devil.

“I am glad Hector sent for me.” Isaac said definitively and then in a low voice, rich with promise, he pledged. “In the shadows of this castle the nights are long and dark. They hold great potential for great things. Please allow me to offer my skills in service next to Hector’s.” 

Isaac bowed his head, but he held Adrian’s gaze, a subtle smile on his lips. 

What Adrian saw in the other man’s eyes made the comfort of his presence deepen into something much more powerful than simple reassurance. Adrian felt as if his steel was tempered now, cool and ready to strike. The hard but brittle metals that each of them brought to the forge - _Adrian and Trevor, Hector, Sypha, Isaac-_ were toughened by being joined together. 

“Come then.” He said and Isaac straightened at the invitation. They walked inside the manor and caught up with the others just as Trevor was opening the door to the hold. 

The last son of House Belmont did the deed with a confidence Adrian had yet to see in him when surrounded by the oppression of his family’s things. He didn’t sigh reluctantly or fumble over the incantation, he simply lifted his hand, spoke the words, and opened the hearthstone to grant them all admittance. 

They went single file with Trevor in the lead. Isaac and Adrian formed the rear guard to prevent their guests from reconsidering their dangerous curiosity.

As Adrian could have predicted, they didn’t make it two steps onto the landing at the top of the staircase before every Belmont guardian that Isaac had raised from the dead descended upon them, hungry for enemy souls. The din of their outraged screams was magnified in the cavernous space as they filled the steps, climbed the walls and flew up through the air, some with weapons in hand, demon-red eyes glowing with ill-intent. Halldis and her human stood their ground but Adrian could smell the fear on them. 

Right before the wave of corpse flesh and ghostly apparition threatened to crash into them, Trevor held up his hand again and his family stopped cold, mid-air, mid-step, mid-strike, to silently await his orders. 

“Stand down everyone.” He said lazily. “And move.” 

Trevor shooed at the demon Belmonts and they reluctantly gave way but their rage still bubbled as a thing almost palpable. He started down the steps, path now cleared, but Halldis and the human didn’t move. They were both frozen in place, bodies taut as bowstrings, with Halldis baring her fangs. Isaac took the liberty of encouraging them forward with the tip of his knife. 

At the bottom of the staircase, the door to the library was opened and their happy party was met by Hector and Sypha looking not at all out of place amidst the bellicose Belmonts. Hector held the dagger Trevor had given him and Sypha held fire in her hands, both of them primed for an altercation.

“Trevor,” Sypha demanded, “what is going on? Your family just...they all just…” There was really no need for her to describe what everyone could see for themselves. “Oh! Isaac, is that you?” She smiled in friendly reunion, but the smile disappeared and the flames in her hands grew brighter when she laid eyes on Halldis and her human. “Who are _those_ two?”

Realizing the situation was under control, Hector sheathed his blade. “It’s good to see you Isaac.” 

“And you, Hector.” Isaac put away his knife also. 

Trevor answered Sypha. “I brought some guests. They wanted to see the hold.” He walked on and into the library as if he offered tours of the place to every passerby.

Sufficiently intimidated, their ‘guests’ didn't hesitate to follow this time. As they passed Hector, he asked out loud, and likely on purpose, “Are they guests? Or hostages?”

“That remains to be seen.” Adrian warned.

Sypha’s flames fizzled out but she still sounded skeptical. “Is..is this going to take long?” She spoke at Trevor’s back as he disappeared behind some shelves, ‘guests’ in tow. Also in tow was a line of Belmont demons, following him with clanging weapons and eerie noises of malcontent at not being able to attack the vampire in their midst. They were forced to settle for ominous hovering. Trevor didn’t respond to Syhpa’s question that time so she switched to Adrian. “We really need to talk about some things. _In private.”_ She stressed. 

Adrian had hoped to speak with Halldis, but he knew ignoring Sypha when she had that look in her eyes wasn’t wise. Hopefully they’d learned something while he and Trevor were outside. Hector was already leading Isaac away, speaking softly, but gesturing emphatically, suggesting he was sharing all the necessary information with his comrade to catch him up.

“Belmont.” Adrian called after Trevor.  “We must speak with Sypha. Do something with those two _or get rid of them.”_

Adrian had initially felt it important to set a certain tone with the vampires by throwing out a few capricious threats. It felt contrived at first, but he found it was getting easier. And more enjoyable. As for Trevor, he seemed to be finding it easier to talk back in front of company. 

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing, _Alucard?”_

The way Trevor made the name ‘Alucard’ sound very much like the word ‘Asshole’ was a gift unique to him. Sypha covered a smile with her hand and the two of them marched along behind to see what Trevor had planned as a charitable host. As they progressed deeper into the hold, Trevor offered an occasional casual warning about their surroundings. 

“Watch your step around that pile of vampire skulls there.” He pointed to an actual pile of vampire skulls stacked into a grotesque pyramid and he glanced back at Halldis. “And I’d mind where your limbs are if I were you. Most of this shit is either blessed or cursed.” He smiled wolfishly. “Oh, but don’t worry if you catch on fire. Hector says there’s a bunch of that white powder stuff down here so we can dump it on you if we need to. Can’t have you ruining the collection by going up in flames on us.”

The Belmonts following them made some strange noises that Adrian swore sounded like laughter. 

Eventually they arrived at the very shelves they’d been exploring earlier, surrounded by cages and the scattered chains Adrian had pulled off of them. Trevor walked up to one of the book prisons. It was an alcove with only two shelves and a door of wrought iron bars. He rattled it as if to make sure its hinges were still fastened firmly into the stone threshold after Adrian had ripped its lock away. When he was satisfied it would be secure, he jerked his thumb at Halldis and ordered her to,

“Get in.” 

His expression was stony and there was no possible way for her to refuse, surrounded as she was by Trevor, Adrian, Sypha and at least a dozen hostile demons. Her human tried to protest but she quickly hushed her with a glare. She stepped inside the small space, positioning herself between the two shelves and she stared back at them, all fangs and seething outrage. 

Trevor slammed the door closed then picked up a length of the broken chain that had once been doused in holy water. He draped it around the bars to hold it loosely shut. 

“If I were you, I wouldn’t touch this.” He pointed at the makeshift lock. “I’m not gonna be held responsible for you getting hurt because you were stupid.” Right before he turned away, he added, “Oh and probably don’t touch any of those books either. Never know what you’re gonna find down here. For all I know, that’s the pornography section and I’m also not gonna be responsible for you seeing something you’d rather not. Although, from what I hear, the vampire who made you only cared about fucking, so who knows, maybe you could teach the horny old Belmonts a thing or two.”

Halldis folded her arms across her chest, as defiant as she could be inside a cage.

“Godbrand fucked me in many ways, _Belmont,_ but none of them involved his cock.”

Then her expression and her tone changed when she turned to her human and she spoke in a different language. Adrian was able to pick out a few words, including _‘safe’, ‘trust’_ and _‘love'._

The human nodded resolutely to her vampire as Trevor grabbed her by the arm. Adrian could now unquestionably conclude that the two were lovers.

‘Alright, now you.” 

The human opened her mouth and tried to offer her name but Trevor held up his other hand at her. 

“Uh-uh. I don’t care what your name is, just get over here.” He rudely pulled her away, back through a few more rows of shelves and into the hallway that held his father’s study. Adrian and Sypha kept their distance and observed from afar, not willing to unsettle their stomachs. 

Trevor and the Belmonts escorted her right into the room with the strange blood ward. Immediately, her eyes went wide and she looked sick. Trevor slammed the door on her just as her hands flew up to her mouth in the universal gesture of holding back vomit.

Trevor motioned to two of the nearby demons and ordered them to stand guard at the door. He spoke loudly enough to be heard inside the little room. “You two, stand here and knock her the fuck out if she tries to leave... _or if she throws up in there. Because this is what you get when you fucking try to break into someone’s home!”_

Guests now settled, Trevor was ready to talk. Sypha led the way this time and they found where Hector had taken Isaac. 

Up several floors from where they had been on the bottom level, the two men were seated in a comfortable corner with large chairs and a few small tables laden with an array of loose sheets of parchment, small pocket-sized notebooks and other scraps of paper held together in leather portfolios. Hector and Isaac rose from their seats when they arrived but Sypha bade them all sit down. 

“Isaac, did Hector tell you everything?” She asked.

“He did. And I must say, I have a new respect for your family’s audacity, Belmont.”

“Fuck you, asshole.” Trevor grumbled. When Sypha kicked his foot under the table, however, he added reluctantly, “But thanks for coming.”

Hector leaned in to the group. “I’ve shown Isaac your father’s letters as well, Belmont. It turns out they were exactly what Sypha needed to get pointed in the right direction. The one you _didn’t_ read mentioned that your father had traveled with a group of speakers for a time. These are some of the notes he took on the stories he learned from them.” 

Hector pointed at all the paper scraps and Sypha took over the conversation.

 _“Obvious disregard for our traditions aside,”_ she scolded Trevor for his father’s transgressions in recording the speakers’ verbal history, “after looking through these notes, I remembered some very old stories, myths mostly, at least that’s what we always thought they were, and I think I have an idea of what your father learned about the Belmont curse. Unfortunately for him, even if he’d lived long enough to figure out how to break it, he probably wouldn't have been able to find the resources. Fortunately for you, you have us.” 

Sypha smiled proudly and then passed the baton to Isaac.

“There is a natural tendency, for those with the power to do so, to bring order to chaos, even among the dark things of the world.” Isaac explained. “We forgemasters reassemble life from that which is dead, weaving a cohesive tapestry from the loose threads of souls cast adrift. They say that saints create miracles from nothing but their prayers. Even gods follow their own canons. And so too does the devil have a doctrine by which he abides, bringing order to his corner of the chaos in which we all live.”

Trevor slouched in his chair and rolled his eyes. “Are we going to get to the point soon? I’m tired and I’ve had it up to my eyeballs with all the hand-waving, dark-dealing, magic bullshit. I just wanna know if we can kill the fucker.”

“Sorry. We can’t.” Sypha was brutal in her honesty, but the admission wasn’t anything Adrian hadn’t already expected to hear. “We may be able to play his game though, by his rules, and hopefully still fulfill the terms of the bargain he made with your family.”

Adrian could sense Trevor was about to complain again, so he spoke up before he had the chance.

“Please continue, Sypha. We’ll do whatever it takes.”

“The ward Trevor’s father put up in his study, that made everyone but Trevor sick, made me think that the Bemonts must have learned the fundamentals of blood magic from somewhere. That, along with these notes, was what made me remember some old stories about people cursing their own blood, or the entire bloodlines of their family, in return for something. Money, power, revenge. The usual things in most cases, but what your family did, Trevor, was let the devil curse all Belmont blood in exchange for every Belmont being granted the ability to fight vampires and ultimately kill Dracula, no matter how many generations it took. But once Dracula’s death was achieved, the devil would take his payment and claim those souls with the tainted blood.”

Adrian’s fingers tightened around the arms of his chair. Everything was obvious now and what had been disparate pieces clicked into place in his head. Understanding from ignorance. Order from chaos.

“My father died and you should have paid the final price for your family’s blood curse.” Adrian spoke softly, organizing his thoughts out loud. “But you ended up here, with me, and we’ve shared blood. To the devil it must have seemed as though someone was trying to usurp his prize. That a _vampire_ was trying to usurp his prize.”

Everyone looked away, at the floor, at the sheets on the tables, at their hands. Everyone but Trevor who was sitting up straight now, focused on Adrian. And Adrian could see the innocent ignorance fall away from him as well.

“Are you saying Satan killed the vampires in the woods looking for me? Looking for my blood, thinking one of them took it? Until he found me... _found us…”_

Adrian continued. “This is why your father wanted me to make you a vampire. To make _your_ blood _mine_ hoping that would be enough to rewrite Satan’s curse in my image instead. _”_

Sypha, yet again, was forced to be the bearer of brutal truths. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”

Trevor sighed. “Of course it isn’t. Why in the fuck would it be? Go on then. I’m already confused so let’s just have the rest of it and be done so we can move on to _actually fucking doing something.”_

Sypha explained. “Magic always involves a balance of forces. The intent of the magician may shape the content of a spell but we can’t make something happen from nothing. There’s always some sort of equivalent exchange, just like Isaac said. Do you remember those giant wards Adrian put up to keep Carmilla inside the castle and out of the hold? He paid for those spells with his blood. So making you a vampire may save _you,_ but the devil will still want the souls he was promised, that were blood-bound to him in the original bargain. He could still claim your whole dead family. Or he could threaten Adrian and try to extract the price from him in other ways.”

“Unless you purge what is left of the Belmont blood…” Hector offered tentatively.

“And pay the devil his souls to settle your debts.” Isaac finished Hector’s sentence and added something that Adrian almost thought he could hear in his father’s voice. “But fortunately for you a reaper of souls does not bother with descrimination. His scythe cuts down human and demon alike, for death finds us all in the end.”

Sypha leaned back in her chair and asked a ruthless question. “So...how many vampires did you two say you had staying in the castle right now?”

~

The conversation degenerated even further after that and Trevor had to walk away again. There was talk of some kind of complicated spell casting. Then something about draining out all of Trevor’s blood until he was _almost_ dead. Then feeding him Adrian’s blood. Which might keep him from dying. Or it might make him a vampire. But hopefully at least one of those things, with no actual dying happening. Tough to say though since none of them had ever done anything like this before and they had _no fucking idea what they were doing._

He left promptly when they started talking about how they would need to convince the vampires to drink all of Trevor’s drained-out devil-cursed Belmont blood. 

 _Adrian_ drinking his blood was one thing. Every vampire this side of hell feasting on his life force was _quite another._

He wasn’t sure they even noticed when he’d gone. Sypha and Hector looked genuinely interested in all the magical details. Isaac honestly just looked like he was itching to meet Satan. Adrian looked... _hungry._

Maybe it was all the unrestrained talk about blood that made him look that way, Trevor’s blood specifically. It could also be that he was finally able to seize upon some action they could take, some recourse they had and weapons to fight back with. Even if it was stupid magic weapons and not real ones with heft and weight that felt good in your hands and made satisfying noises when they struck their target. Trevor couldn’t help but feel jealous since it seemed like his only role in all this was to be passive and hope everything turned out alright after they exsanguinated him and fed his blood to a pack of vampires. 

Well, both he and Satan would just have to take what they could get, he supposed. 

When he wandered back over eventually, only to see that they were all still plotting his death and the devil’s payment, he decided to go and let out the poor human he locked up in the nausea room. It had been a long time since he’d talked to a normal human, and suddenly it was something that appealed to him very much. 

He supposed a human slave who was almost certainly fucking her vampire overlord wasn’t ‘normal’, exactly, but who was he kidding? As with everything in his life, that was as close as he was going to get. 

He dismissed the demons guarding her and opened up the door only to find her doubled over on the floor moaning and clutching at her belly. She looked like death warmed over.

“Come on. Out with you. I’m feeling generous.”

She practically crawled out of the room, inhaling gulps of fresh air. Trevor helped her up and led her over to a table where they could both sit. 

“Good job not vomiting.” He complimented her. “It still serves you right though. What in the hell were you thinking trying to come down here? Doesn’t sound like your vampire made you do it.”

When the color came back into her face and she was able to speak without retching, she agreed. And she hinted at the dynamics of their relationship while she was at it. 

“She would never _make me_ do anything.”

“Well good for you. And you’re aware that you have a big fucking mouth, right? You may want to think about repaying her for not forcing you to do shit by not sharing her business with everyone. You two are lucky you’re not dead yet. Something tells me it would have been a lot less forgiving in Dracula’s court.”

Again, the woman’s inability to be discreet revealed itself. “Yes, but it’s different now!” She exclaimed excitedly, leaning forward and speaking to Trevor with a youthful naivete he found amusing. “Lord Alucard, he…” She lowered her voice, “he _loves_ you, doesn’t he? And you’re human! And he doesn’t care.”

“You do know his mother was human too, don’t you? I’m hardly the first human to fuck a vampire in that castle.”

“Yes, but you’re a _Belmont._ The two of you overthrew his father. _Together._ You’re not his slave or his thrall. At least that’s what Halldis says.”

Trevor couldn’t help but laugh. _“Do you think his mother was Dracula’s slave?_ Listen, if you live through this thing, I promise to tell you everything he’s told me about his mother because that is the furthest fucking thing from the truth I have ever heard.”

The woman shrunk back and managed her excitement a little better. “Halldis only came here because she knows things need to be different. That bastard Rolf just wants to be another Carmilla. Even most of the other clans, you see how they treat their slaves. They’ll never think of humans as anything more than livestock. And they don’t trust that Lord Alucard will agree with them, just like they didn’t trust his father.”

“Why? Because both of them found willing humans as partners? Because I’m not walking around here half-dead from blood loss and torture? You and Halldis seem to know something about that too. Which brings us back to why you were trying to get in here?” Trevor prompted her again.  

“Because if there was something down here that could help me be like you, _like a Belmont,_ then I could...I could help her. Like how you help Lord Alucard. Some of the vampires are just as scared of you as they are of him.”

Trevor erupted into laughter again and he was still wiping tears away from his eyes when he got up and left her there. He needed to get back to Adrian. Hopefully they’d sorted out all the magic shit by now. He didn’t care if this foolish chit read every book in the damn hold. Let her explore, let her find her vampire, let them stay, let them go. It didn’t matter. It was clear those two were just as fucked as he and Adrian were. They’d have to figure it out for themselves. Just like he and Adrian were trying to do. Trevor felt for them, but since he had no solutions, he left her with the one piece of advice he felt confident giving.

“Let me tell you something, one human to another: A fucking _Belmont_ is the last fucking thing in the world you should ever want to be.”

~

Adrian was happy to give Trevor the opportunity to walk off his frustration and return to them on his own. There was much to do, but at least they had a plan. He compartmentalized and set aside his worry regarding the myriad risks of that plan in favor of starting his part of the preparations while he waited for Trevor to come around. 

Halldis was still standing motionless behind bars, looking livid at being locked up. She said nothing when he approached but she bowed her head in respect. 

“It was short-sighted of you to leave your human to her own devices. She seems reckless. And she is lucky Isaac did not kill her immediately.”

To her credit, Halldis looked like she agreed. And given that she had no choice, she was honest about it. “I did not bring her into the castle with me _because_ she is reckless.”

“And yet, you love her still.”

Halldis clenched her jaw but continued her confession. “She was the most willful, infuriating slave I’d ever come across in years of raiding. Impulsive to the point of stupidity. She’s lucky _I_ acquired her and not someone else.”

Without revealing exactly how much he could relate to her situation, Adrian offered up some small fraction of understanding.

“Humans are chaos. They will drive you to impossible feats of irrationality if you let them.”

It was her turn to pin him down. “And how do you _not_ let them, Lord Alucard?” 

He couldn’t help but respect her impertinence. 

“If I knew, you and I would not be here right now having this conversation. I think the only real answer is to not fall in love with one in the first place. Leaving that aside, the only other option is to turn them.”

Halldis looked down at the floor. “I thought... _we_ thought that when you claimed the castle and took a human as consort it might be the start of a new way for our people. There are threats I cannot protect her from. Not with our world as it is. And I am loathe to take from her...I don’t want to…”

“You do not want to destroy that which drew you to her in the first place.”

Halldis lifted her eyes and nodded slowly. “You are wise, Lord Alucard.”

“I believe my father would argue differently. But he is gone, and I am all that is left. As such, I intend to take my own measures to protect that which I hold dear. As I have done before and will always do for him. _Even if that means sacrificing all of you.”_

Her features hardened at his harsh words, but she seemed to understand. “Then the threat in the woods that was hunting us was not Belmont’s doing?”

“It was not _Trevor’s_ doing.” Adrian specified, but he offered nothing further.

At the sound of soft footsteps approaching Adrian turned to see Halldis’s human creeping slowly towards them. When she noticed Adrian she stopped and held her breath. He decided to motion her forward. 

“Your woman has come to check on you.” He told Halldis. “Trevor must have been feeling generous to have released her. You may stay together but unfortunately we cannot permit you to leave here. At least for now. But I imagine the Belmonts will assure that you both stay out of trouble.”

As if on command, the Belmont demons emerged from behind shelves, rose up from the floor and dropped down through the ceiling. Adrian walked away as they surrounded Halldis and her human. 

~

“If you were trying to sneak up on me, you failed.”

Adrian found him walking through a deserted section of the hold full of curio cabinets housing a large number of oddities, most of which Trevor could not identify. 

Trevor didn’t want to admit he was lost in his own basement, but he was. After speaking with the human, whose name he had yet to learn, he wanted to go find Adrian but somehow he got turned around and had been wandering for several minutes without seeing hide nor hair of him or any of their friends until now. 

Adrian came over and confessed his own confusion. “It was not difficult for me to find you, but I am afraid I will have to retrace my steps to return to the parts of the library I am familiar with.”

“Or we could just stay lost down here and let Sypha, Hector and Isaac deal with things.”

Adrian didn’t laugh at Trevor’s joke. 

“I spoke with Halldis.” He said.

“Yeah, I talked to her human. Apparently they wanted us to usher in a grand new world for them where humans and vampires live as one, and all is good and right on earth. Too bad they didn’t know we’re both selfish pricks. And we’re a little too busy trying to save my skin right now to worry about all that.”

“Their desires are laudable. And it may yet be possible, but people must _want_ to follow a leader who suggests such drastic change. My father had become too unstable and it came after years of isolating himself. It bred suspicion and disloyalty. As I’ve said, given time and the support of my mother, he might have been able to affect change, but what is done is done and it was not to be. Before _this_ is done, we will know who is loyal to us and who is not. And those who are not will be dealt with. Then we can see how far our influence carries.”

Trevor leaned back against one of the cabinets. “You say ‘us’ like you think the vampire world will ever see me as anything but your bitch.”

It was another joke, but again Adrian didn’t laugh. In fact, he looked offended. “They need to see us as equals because we are. What they think about other humans is irrelevant to me.”

“See. Like I said. Selfish bastards. Probably our dads’ influence on us. And I guess when I become a vampire it won’t matter anyway. So who cares? I wasn’t planning on being responsible for a crusade when I decided to fuck you.”

Adrian closed in on him slowly and moved to speak in his ear until Trevor could feel the soft wisps of the man’s hair tickle his cheek.

“Do you mean when you decided to _fall in love_ with me?” Adrian whispered, taunting. Always taunting. Never letting him hide. Finding him and never leaving him lost. Even in his own basement.

Trevor tried to pull away from the breath on his ear but Adrian placed a hand on his chest and then carefully drew it up until it rested on his neck with his fingertips covering his pulse point. Trevor could almost feel the thump of his blood hit against the pads of Adrian’s digits, the rising beat of a drum reaching up to be heard.

“It’s possible we’ll still have time, Trevor. That you’ll remain human until we choose to make you otherwise but yes, you are correct. When you are a vampire many things won’t matter any longer. And many things for you will change.”

“That sounds like a _large_ understatement.” 

Trevor rested his head back against the cabinet and looked up at the ceiling. It was quiet and calm and for the first time since this all started it felt like they were in their own little world again, hiding away and willfully ignoring the demons lurking just around the corner. The one difference, other than being down here instead of in the castle, was Adrian’s touch. It was nice as it always was but there was something else to it too. A subtle buzz of need. A vibratory anticipation. 

Trevor leaned into it when Adrian dipped his head down to the crook of his neck and inhaled. He nuzzled the tip of his nose behind Trevor’s ear and spoke again. 

“When I was with Halldis, something she mentioned struck me. She said she was loathe to take her lover’s humanity. That it was why she fell in love with her.”

Adrian shifted his body so they were facing one another now, flush and chest to chest. Adrian widened his stance and trapped Trevor’s legs between his. Their boots were parallel and Adrian’s hands came up to tangle in Trevor’s hair. Sharp fangs grazed his jaw as Adrian took small nips between his words, though they were too shallow to break skin.

“I did not think _I_ would lament the loss of your humanity, but I know now that I will. You’ll feel things differently, sense things differently. You may desire new things. What we’ve come to learn about each other may change also. Will you love me differently, I wonder, when you look on me with red eyes instead of blue?” Adrian exhaled. _“I will miss the color of your eyes…”_

Adrian kissed him and Trevor let him. It was long and slow, as Adrian always preferred. These were all things Trevor hadn’t considered either. Would he want to experience the nuance of each of Adrian’s kisses as if he had all of eternity to do so, because he did and he could? Would he lose the urgency of his human desire to devour his lover _now now now_ because he was never sure how long he would have this?

“The taste of my mouth on yours will be different.” Adrian’s list was a song of lamentation, beautiful and bittersweet. He joined and parted their lips again and again. “My fingertips on your skin will feel different. When I run my tongue along your cock, when I stroke it with my hand, when I fuck you and come inside you, all will be _different.”_

And with that statement, Adrian finally brought attention to their cocks when he pressed his pelvis forward and dragged _just so._ He moved his hands to Trevor’s hips and dug in deeply.

“Different?” Trevor groaned. His eyes rolled up into his head at the tantalizing friction. “Or _better?”_

Adrian laughed softly. “Perhaps.” He said and he moved his mouth back down to Trevor’s pulse, teasing with his teeth. “Perhaps more vivid. Perhaps more clear. More sensitive, more attuned. I was born into this. I know no other way of feeling. But I’ve learned through you that there is no ‘better’ way. Only different ways.”

Trevor stretched his neck enjoying the very human fearful anticipation of having fangs threaten him. Adrian stepped back just enough to shift his hand overtop of Trevor’s cock where he worsened the tortuous friction by stroking firmly up and down.

“Let me have you as you are now, _please Trevor._ If it is to be our last time before you are changed, then let me have this memory. Let me give you this memory of who you once were.”

 _“Fuck.”_ Trevor breathed out slowly but he inhaled sharply when Adrian squeezed him tight through his trousers. “We’re never gonna hear the end of it if Hector finds out we fucked down here too.”

Trevor had his eyes closed but he could hear Adrian’s devilish smile. “Then you’ll have to be quiet for me, love.”

“Not a chance if you keep doing that... _fuck…”_ Trevor thrust his hips forward, forcing himself into Adrian’s hand and grinding up against it. 

“Be loud then. Shout for everyone to hear. Be crass. Be  _human.”_

In seconds, but without any sort of clumsy rush, Adrian had smoothly rid Trevor of his weapons and his tunic and had undone his trousers. Trevor wondered if he could get Adrian naked so efficiently once he was a vampire. Until then, he would enjoy being human and enjoy what Adrian could do to him.

Adrian seemed to have the same idea. 

“Tell me what you want Trevor.” He begged as he pressed his hands down on Trevor’s shoulders and pushed the flat of his tongue against one of his nipples. “I’ll do it. I’ll do anything just to hear you shout my name.”

“You know what I want.” Trevor grabbed a handful of pale hair and pulled Adrian’s head away from lapping at his chest. He looked down at him and smiled. “On your knees.”

True to his word, down Adrian went on command, tugging Trevor’s trousers down with him just enough to make his cock bob out of its confines. With one hand Adrian encircled the base tight as he slicked up the fingers of his other hand with his mouth. 

 _“Oh fuck…”_  

Trevor started going dizzy as he watched him and being careful about keeping quiet was seeming less important. He was already being louder than he should be. He supposed that was the point of this game though.

He cursed louder still when Adrian’s clever tongue left his own fingers and licked a path from the underside of his cock to the slit at the tip and then swallowed him down in one go. 

Trevor was liquid in Adrian’s hands. He was on fire even as he shivered and struggled to stay standing when one long finger pushed up inside him. 

“Yessssss…” He hissed, heedless of the sound. _“Fuck,_ I wanna come already.”

Unexpectedly, Adrian followed that command as well, conceding to Trevor’s whims and his very human impatience. Another slick finger, then a third entered him, curving up inside just right and as Adrian pumped faster with the hand round his cock he swallowed deeply until the rhythmic precision of his assault had Trevor spilling and shouting. 

He couldn’t even be upset that it happened so fast because he knew Adrian would allow him some human greed. 

Adrian pulled out his fingers gently and slid off his cock. Trevor had to hold onto his shoulders so he wouldn’t collapse from the lightheadedness of his climax. The other man’s pale cheeks were flushed and he was panting, fangs out, gold eyes dilated, gaze hungry. 

“Tell me you want more.” Adrian said, low and rough enough to be a growl. 

Trevor reveled in the state his lover was in, unhinged and desperate for him. And since it might be the last time he could offer himself up like this, he just came out and said it.

“Bite me. _And make me feel it.”_

It happened so fast the cabinet behind him shook with Adrian’s sudden movement and things fell to the floor in a noisy clatter. Hands were in his hair and fangs were at his neck before he could even blink and, just as ordered, when Adrian sunk his teeth in, the pain was exquisite. 

“Aahhhhhh....” Trevor cried out, then whimpered. His body twitched involuntarily and helplessly tried to pull away but Adrian held fast and kept drinking. Trevor’s cock started to respond again, shamefully quick, and his hands flew to Adrian’s trousers, groping to feel him.

Adrian tilted his hips to help and through the sharp agony of Adrian’s attack he managed to pull out the man’s cock and start stroking. 

Adrian growled again into his neck and jerked his pelvis into Trevor’s hand, all of his elegance and poise gone in favor of thirst and desire. Trevor had brought the high and mighty Alucard down with him, forcing him to succumb to the crude satisfaction of all his base instincts. 

Just when Adrian started stiffening in pulses in Trevor’s hand, Trevor stopped stroking him and used all the strength he could muster to push him away. He felt flesh tear from his neck and both of them yelled in pain and shock. 

“Don’t you dare come yet.” Trevor dictated. “Fuck me and make me come again first. Might as well go all the way while we’re at it. I don’t think the devil’s heard us yet, but he’s probably the only one.”

Trevor’s blood streaked Adrian’s face but rather than look distraught at his new orders he smiled, toothy and depraved. He spun Trevor around and shoved him up against the cabinet. 

Glass broke this time and more items toppled to the ground. Trevor almost though he heard voices somewhere and a flash of movement caught his eye beyond the shelves, but he shut it all out and focused only on Adrian’s voice. Feet kicked at his ankles and a strong hand pressed into his shoulder. 

“Command me.” Adrian demanded harshly in his ear from behind, somehow making the plea of a slave sound proud. 

“Fuck me hard and don’t stop.” Trevor braced himself and steadied his breathing. 

Adrian followed his commands to the letter, fucking him deep and hard until Trevor couldn’t keep his hands off his own aching cock. 

Trevor could feel Adrian’s eyes on him as he jerked himself off, still thrusting for all he was worth. 

“Trevor…” The name ripped past his lips full of lust and wavering restraint. “Please, love, I can’t…” _Deeper, faster, harder._ “Let me come...please...let me come…”

He asked with such longing and such pain. Such trust and such emotion. Trevor, who needed to come again so fucking badly he was in his own world of pain, granted his wish and with only a few more drags of his hand on his cock he came a second time, _-all over his family’s conquered prizes-_ with Adrian deep inside and sweating diligently behind him. 

Like a good boy, Adrian waited until Trevor was done then he slowed his pace, _which couldn’t have been easy,_ letting Trevor come down gently from his high until he finally surrendered and allowed himself his own climax. He shuddered and moaned against Trevor’s back and the feeling and the sound of it was almost as good as his own orgasm. 

Adrian eased them down to the floor once they were both empty of their urgent needs. They laid down carefully amidst blood and sweat and spend, trophy skulls and glass shards and consecrated steel, leather and parchment and discarded clothes. Trevor felt messy and mortal and that was fine. But he knew that it was also fine if he left all that behind and ventured forward with Adrian into something different. 

Trevor gingerly sat up and leaned back against the cabinet he was surprised was still standing after the abuse it had just taken. Adrian was lying face up, flat on his back, on the floor, his eyes closed and his dick still out, breathing steadily, one graceful hand resting on one bent up knee. 

Trevor closed his own eyes and twisted idle knots into Adrian’s hair while he waited for his heartbeat to slow down. He knew he wasn’t allowed to fall asleep, devil still up his ass and all, but he was almost relaxed enough to not care and doze off anyway.

Until a book hit him in the side of the head.

 _“Ow!”_ He yelled and he opened his eyes in the direction of the attack. Adrian sat up.

They both saw exactly what they should have expected, but that didn’t make it any less withering.

Hector was rubbing his temples. Isaac was already walking away. Sypha, who had obviously been the one to throw the first book, threw another one, this time at Adrian. He dodged it effortlessly. 

“I hope you two are _finally done now_ because we have work to do.”


	14. Terror

Trevor thought it odd that Isaac pulled out his knife as he walked away. 

“Isaac..?” Hector was quick to notice it too but that might have been because he was looking for a reason to avert his eyes.

As for Trevor, under better circumstances, he might have acknowledged that troubling harbinger more fully, but at the moment his attention was overtaken by Sypha’s raging disapproval. She didn’t even have the decency to look away as he fumbled with his trousers. And he had no idea where his tunic had gone to. 

 _“Do you really have such little shame?”_ She clicked her tongue at him in disgust. 

“Why are you asking _me?”_ He struggled to turn the tables, _hopeless though he knew the attempt would be._ Adrian offered him a hand up but he chose to ignore it. Instead, he stood awkwardly, dusted himself off and started kicking away the broken shit on the floor looking for his weapons. “I wasn’t over here fucking myself! _He’s_ just as guilty as I am.” He pointed at Adrian, stoic as ever, not one shit to give about being caught _in flagrante delicto_. “And since when are you so damn prudish?”

Sypha narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose, almost managing the heights of condescension that Trevor thought only Adrian was capable of. 

“No one _cares_ how much sex you have, Trevor, but _really._ There’s such a thing as _timing._ And do you always have to destroy everything? Look at this mess! Priceless artifacts, curated over generations, just...just... _desecrated_ because you two can’t…”

 _“Alucard.”_ Isaac forcefully interrupted Sypha’s scathing take down. He still had his knife in hand and now Hector was beside him, same stance, same wary, searching eyes. “The Belmont horde. Something is wrong with them.”

But it was too late for Trevor to finally pay attention. He’d run out of time. 

~

They’d run out of time.

Adrian cursed his ignorant, short-sightedness yet again. Isaac was the one who felt the Belmonts change first. He’d made them afterall. When Hector followed, that was when Adrian felt it too. It was quiet, barely anything, he’d only had very little of Hector’s blood, once upon another desperate time, but it spoke to him now as it had then, revealing the man’s emotions, a powerful refrain of aggression played against a resonant chord of survival. Like Isaac, Hector had a unique connection to the souls of the dead. 

But Hector’s blood wasn’t Trevor’s. It wasn’t first in his thoughts nor last on his tongue, and Trevor was _fine,_ as he always was and as he always _felt_ , arguing with Sypha, standing and looking for his weapons...until his knees buckled and his face contorted in pain.

“Ah! _Fuck!”_ He barely managed the words as he dropped to the floor clutching his head in both hands.

Adrian thanked all that was sane in the world for their friends in that moment because it was Sypha who caught his lover as he fell. He was too overwhelmed by the explosion of his own senses to do so himself. 

 _I’m already failing you..._ he lamented as he tried to recenter himself. There was something pulling at him, _pulling at them,_ a terrible, violent _ripping_ and it was all he could do to keep his mind focused on Trevor, on his blood, even as he felt his hold on it slipping away. 

And then everyone started shouting. Sypha, at Trevor, _‘What’s happening?’_ Hector, at Isaac, _‘We have to get back to the castle!’_ And Isaac, at Adrian, _‘The demons are not under our control any longer…'_ Each word was more horrifying and damning than the next as chaos closed in around them.

Adrian clenched his teeth and moved to help Sypha pull Trevor to his feet. His vision was fast regressing to nothing but incoherent swirls, a kaleidoscopic mess of vague images, all while he struggled to keep Trevor’s visage in focus and keep hold of their bond. It seemed like a fragile thing suddenly, their bonded, mingled blood. All this time, that pulse in his chest beside his own heart that felt like it could never be torn free, that felt like it was woven so tightly and so deeply into the fiber of his very being that he could hardly imagine it being gone, now felt like something weak and fleeting.

He bit down on his resolve until he tasted his own blood in his mouth and he clamped down like an iron vice on whatever magic it was in that blood of his that held Trevor’s captive. Only one of them would be holding the last Belmont’s leash come morning, _and it wasn’t going to be Satan._

Adrian slung one of Trevor's arms around his shoulders and hoisted him upright. Sypha was on his other side, helping to keep him steady. They huddled in close behind Isaac and Hector who were trying to make way for them by physically repelling what was now the entire demon Belmont host coming at them through the maze of cabinets and shelves. 

“Trevor…” Adrian forced the words out as they lurched forward. “The Belmonts, they’ve turned on us. Can you move at all?”

But Trevor’s eyes were still pinched shut and he was nearly limp between him and Sypha. He was breathing so heavily his chest was retracting with each inhale and Adrian could see his carotid pulse madly fluttering beneath the skin of his neck. Even if he could have answered through whatever fugue had take him, he would have been interrupted when someone else started shouting at them from up ahead. 

_“What is the meaning of this?”_

Adrian blinked and searched out the new voice. It was Halldis. Her words were chased by a wet squelch, a hiss and the characteristic sound of blood spatter. In this case, demon blood. The Belmonts’ ire was apparently not reserved for only for them if Halldis had to fight through the creatures as well.

Isaac answered her even as he swung out with his knife arm at another demon impeding their progress. “The Belmonts are no longer being commanded by us. We must return to the castle immediately.” He followed through with a stroke of his spiked flail. Ichor sprayed and the demon howled, dropping away. 

“Well what _is_ commanding them?” She demanded, still trying to advance through the gathering horde.

“The devil!” Trevor finally spoke, though it was halting and strained. “The _actual fucking devil,_ alright? He’s...he’s after me...and my family...it’s...it’s all our fault but...don’t... _Jesus Christ_ don’t kill them...please, or they’ll…”

Trevor’s selfless, valiant admission was quickly drowned out by the din of escalating combat and his request for mercy for his family would sadly go unhonored because every Belmont that had once risen from their graves to defend this place had now fully turned on them. 

Halldis, with her human close behind her, had managed to clear enough of a path for their group to reach them. Isaac and Hector now had help pushing back the front line and they were able to make better progress towards the only exit that still seemed leagues away. The very atmosphere of the hold had changed. A place once aged and dusty now seemed electrified, and what had once been part of their arsenal was now poised to strike against them. 

All Adrian could feel from Trevor was struggle and exhaustion. His head was hung down and his features were tight with concentration, his eyes were shut and unseeing but for whatever nightmarish visions the devil was surely subjecting him to.

Sypha tried to put words to the suffering they were both watching Trevor endure. 

“Adrian, I think the devil’s magic is controlling the Belmonts. And I think he’s trying to control Trevor too but your blood in him is probably helping him fight it off. So if you can still feel the magic in that bloodbond you two have, _don’t let it go!_ ”

Her eyes went wide then, as if she only just realized something, and they darted to Trevor’s neck. The bite marks there were already almost healed over but the dried trail of blood staining his skin was still there, confessing Alucard’s indulgence. When she looked back up at him, it was with a pity he’d only seen in her once. It was the same way she looked on him after he’d killed his father. 

“You drank from him, Adrian. _Down here._ Outside the castle, on true Belmont soil. This hold isn’t protected by Dracula’s magic. You don’t have any power over this place. Spilling his blood down here might have been all the devil was waiting for…”

“The castle has probably been the only thing protecting you both all this time, Alucard.” Hector shouted over his shoulder as he threw all his weight into pushing away a demon without harming it. He joined in Adrian’s condemnation, though he knew his friends did not mean it as such. “The two of you shouldn’t have exposed his blood outside it’s walls. That is _your_ sacred domain, as it was your father’s; it is of your blood. This place was made with Belmont blood. And now the devil has it all right here for the taking.”

Adrian tried again to speak, the lingering taste of Trevor’s blood now like ashes on his tongue, but his words were cut off when he was forced to shield Trevor from one of his lunging relatives. He twisted his body to take the brunt of a shrieking, clawed attack. Hector came in fast though and before the thing could crash into Adrian’s back he grabbed it from behind and dragged it down. In unspoken coordination, Halldis’s human appeared with a chair that she’d picked up, ready to break it over the demon. Hector rolled away just in time to avoid catching collateral damage as she did just that. The creature screamed like a banshee and darted away across the floor in retreat.

The girl’s eyes were still full of fight when Adrian whipped his head around to look at her. She shrunk away from him and ran into Hector, who was back on his feet. Adrian could imagine how he appeared to her, Dracula’s son, fangs out, bloodied, and wild eyed, protecting his mate like a threatened beast. 

“He won’t hurt you...” Hector touched her arm in reassurance but Halldis was by her side so fast he couldn’t finish his sentence. Her own fangs were out and her own clawed hand was raised right at Hector’s face ready to enucleate him for the perceived threat to her own mate.

Adrian stepped in. Even as distracted as he was while still supporting both Trevor’s weight and his tenuous hold on his soul, he was faster than her and stronger. And given the state of provocation he was in, he couldn’t deny a certain possessive instinct to defend Hector as well. 

Adrian reached out and locked his fingers around Halldis’s throat, pulling her into him. 

 _“You fight the wrong enemy,_ foolish child of Godbrand.” He spit the insult right in her face and then he challenged her. “You are with me, or you are against me. I will not tolerate any further equivocation. _Choose now.”_

He realized that wasn’t much of a choice he’d given her, _between him and Satan,_ accompanied as it was by his hand around her throat and threat of decapitation, but the emphatic response of her ridiculously loose-lipped human was enough to make Adrian believe that the loyalties of Halldis and her clan were no longer in question. 

“We’re with you!” The human girl yelled. She overcame her earlier fear to come up beside her vampire lover and she looked Adrian in the eyes. _“She’s with you. Both of you._ She always was. And I am too. So just tell us what to do!”

Adrian released Halldis without apology. The prerogatives of rule were his to enjoy so he left her to her human and he let his generals take over the giving of orders.

Isaac had made it to the stairs. He ducked under a heavy-handed blow from a demon with a mace. He shoved his shoulder into its midsection, then straightened using the leverage to flip his enemy right over his back. He was upright and ready with his knife again in a flash to defend against a new strike from another beast at his side. 

“There are too many.” He called out. “They’re congregating at the door, trying to keep us here. You. Vampire.” He shouted a command at Halldis. “Guard our rear.”

Hector turned to Sypha. “Let Alucard take him, Sypha. We’ll make it up faster if you help us. We need to move. _Now.”_

Sypha relinquished Trevor to Adrian’s care and Adrian felt her magic rise up, clear and bright against the vile auras emanating from the Belmonts. 

Adrian took a breath and whispered in Trevor’s ear _‘You can complain about this all you like later, love’,_ before he lifted him up in his arms. 

~

Strangely, having Adrian carry him helped. It was close, physical contact. Trevor could feel his arms under his knees and around his back, his fingers digging into his leg and his shoulder. He could feel the heave of his chest with his breaths against his body. He was holding tight and it made it easier for Trevor to hold on. It was a testament to just how bad off he was that letting his friends do all the fighting while Adrian carried him like a helpless babe made him feel grateful.

He kept his eyes shut, because that too helped him focus. He focused on the feeling in his chest that he’d always attributed to Adrian’s blood. A second pulse, a second heart, beating away next to his own. He imagined his fingers touching it, his arms closing around it, digging his heels in and staying close to it, all while the force opposing his efforts intensified with each agonizing second, _pulling, pulling, pulling..._

He was caught up in someone else’s whip. A thing he wasn’t used to. And it felt like it was all he could do to maintain one single strand of Trevor, the Trevor that was his, _and Adrian’s,_ while the Belmont in him was flayed away. 

Everyone was still shouting. Isaac and Hector were up ahead of them somewhere, directing their escape from the hold. Sypha’s magic surrounded them like cool fresh air...despite the fact that it was mostly fire she was wielding. Even as burdened as he was, it didn’t escape his notice that she was trying not to hurt his family and she was trying not to hurt the hold. If she really wanted, she could incerate the whole fucking Belmont horde in an instant and they’d be back outside in no time, but she was being careful, out of respect for his wishes. 

It seemed like their ascent lasted ages, with his body bouncing in Adrian’s arms as he carried him up the endless stairs. He tried to tell himself that it would be easier when they were out of here. He had no idea why, but he latched on to the thought of getting the fuck out of this basement, thinking, _knowing_ somehow, that getting back inside the castle would help this _relentless fucking_ tug of war that he was trapped in.

If this was what hell was like, becoming a vampire sounded like heaven. 

~

Adrian could feel the strain on Trevor’s psyche escalate and reach an almost shattering crescendo just before they broke free of the hold. He could tell Halldis behind him was frustrated by the care they were taking to protect the Belmonts and Trevor’s legacy rather than just burn the lot and escape. As it was, there were still casualties, both in terms of Belmont ‘life’ and Belmont artifacts, but it couldn’t be helped. Trevor was still with them and it was imperative that they get _him_ out. 

Adrian wistfully thought they were lucky they didn’t have to contend with Trevor’s father. 

When they finally made it above ground and out of the skeleton of the manor, Trevor’s suffering was visibly lessened. He was breathing again at least. He’d held his breath for the last few flights of stairs. It was no surprise though that the short trek across to the castle was also not going to be unhindered. 

The vampire clans were all gathered outside, their restless energy filling the night. Rolf and his people were surrounding Hector’s winged demons that were still perched over their comrade, the vampire that Halldis’s human had killed. They were clearly looking to spill the blood of whoever dared to spill theirs. The military lines of Cassius’s faction were primed with their halberds, he at their head, silent and calculating, and the rest of Halldis’s people were gathered also, humans and vampires, weapons out and arguing with Rolf’s heavily armored troops. 

Isaac and Hector tried to position themselves at the vanguard but Halldis and Sypha were having none of it. The women pushed past them. Halldis joined her people and started yelling at Rolf in his own tongue while Sypha started yelling at all those who were impeding their path to the castle.

 _“Get out of our way, right now, unless you want to_ burn.”

Fire exploded in her hands, but she was forced to direct it not at the vampires but again at the Belmonts. The demons had followed them out from the manor and those that hadn’t, rose up from the soil amidst all those gathered outside. Sypha tightened their formation around Adrian and Trevor along with Isaac and Hector, but now the Belmonts had that many more bodies to attack. 

Indiscriminately, they descended on the vampires. Rolf and Cassius and Halldis, and all of the lesser lords and their followers were forced to defend themselves. 

Adrian made out pieces of accusations, curses and threats, in multiple different languages. 

_We knew the dhampir couldn’t be trusted..._

_This was a trap all along..._

_He lured us in…_

_Protect yourselves…_

_Kill them…_

_Kill him…_

A whole new chaos surrounded them, but this time it was a blessing. With the vampires occupied by the Belmonts, and vice versa, their path to the castle was clear. It seemed the devil had unintentionally helped them and Adrian’s pledge to sacrifice the vampires if needed was coming true. He’d planned on manipulating them into sacrifice by finding a way to convince them to drink down Trevor’s curse, but it felt more fitting somehow that they were sacrificed this way, in fire and blood, out in the open, no shadow games and no intrigue, just hardcore battle as Trevor would have preferred it, even if he was unable to partake in the fighting. 

Just as he was about to worry how they would sever the curse now, Hector plotted their course forward as best he could.

“Sypha, go with them, and hurry. Alucard, she’ll need to help you with the ritual. Belmont’s best chance is still to purge him of his cursed blood. Isaac and I will see if there’s anything we can do to help the Belmonts, or at least subdue them, before your whole court is murdered, whether they’re loyal to you or not.”

He said nothing about what they would do with the purged and cursed Belmont blood now. And neither did Sypha. And neither did Adrian.

~ 

He could still feel the dogs of hell licking at his heels but once out of the hold, Trevor thought he might be able to outrun them now. 

The fact that Adrian was still carrying him was beside the point. 

The fighting followed them, he noticed, and it was made worse by the vampires. From their perspective, he imagined things didn’t look good. He didn’t understand most of what they were all shouting but he could guess it was something along the lines of,

_Never trust a half-breed…_

_It was that Belmont all along…_

_They lied…_

_They lured us in…_

_Kill them…_

_Kill him…_

But Trevor thought it more likely that this night would turn into a feast for the lord of death more than a feast for the vampires. 

Hector and Sypha were talking to Adrian in rushed and dire tones, almost as if Trevor wasn’t even there, or as if they thought him too far gone to understand. It reminded him of when he’d first returned here, bleeding his guts out and knocking on death’s door, wondering if he was making a terrible mistake by looking for help from Dracula’s son. 

Well, Dracula’s son was once again his only hope, so there were no protests on his lips this time as they made for the castle’s massive doors of iron and stone and the sanctuary from devil to be found therein. 

The sounds of melee whooshed past his ears. Metal clashing, bones breaking, grunts and shouts and screams. It was the only music he knew how to play and he wished he could join in. He wished he could do anything but the _nothing_ he was doing now just trying not to fall into the devil’s arms so he could stay in Adrian’s.

Sypha’s fire flared a few times, Adrian’s steps changed direction a few times, and then they were there, crossing the threshold and _fucking hell,_ he felt immediately better. Like when he’d had that first taste of Adrian’s blood on lips, his body was soothed. He heard the doors slam shut behind them and then all was quiet but for their labored breaths, the three of them together again and about to face off against yet another monster that wanted them dead. 

Adrian didn’t stop moving and didn’t slow down. He took the stairs up from the grand entry hall three at a time, with Sypha running in his wake trying to keep up. 

“Adrian…” Trevor said, his voice cracked weakly but at least he could talk now. “Adrian, put me down, I’m alright, I can walk.” 

Thankfully, Adrian didn’t argue. He stopped immediately and knelt to release Trevor so he could sit on the floor of the landing at the top of the stairs. Adrian crouched beside him and clasped his shoulders. His eyes looked on him intently, and his question was direct.

“Do you know what is happening, Trevor?”

“Close enough I think, yeah.” He rubbed his eyes and rose slowly to test his feet. Adrian steadied him with an arm at his elbow, but he let him try to manage on his own. “I’m guessing we need to get rid of all this cursed Belmont blood, _now,_ before Satan drags me down to hell with it, right?” 

Adrian nodded and behind him, Sypha echoed the action. “We must go back to the crypt. Can you make it there on your own?”

The fucking crypt. _Dracula’s fucking crypt._ Of course. Where the hell else would one go to get turned into a fucking vampire? 

Despite the fact that, a few minutes ago, having Adrian turn him sounded like nectar in the desert, now that the moment was upon them, an involuntary disgust rose up in his gut. Cold fear and revulsion that he didn’t want to feel, that he knew better than to feel, turned his stomach anyway and he shivered. He didn’t think he’d feel any warmer even if he had been able to finish getting dressed. 

“You must be cold, I’m sorry…” Adrian looked away, uncharacteristically circumspect, uncharacteristically ashamed. Trevor cursed himself for reacting the way he had. Adrian promised him he wouldn’t hesitate to act. He couldn’t make the man feel guilty about living up to his promises. 

“He’s about to be even colder.” Sypha finally caught up with them on the landing. “We can’t waste time you two, we have to go. Adrian, lead the way.”

Adrian helped Trevor up and they walked at a pace he could manage. The _pull_ on his soul still plagued him, but it was better inside the castle than outside it. His bond with Adrian felt stronger tucked within these walls and the feeling of it slipping away was less here. 

After a short trek up into the keep proper, down they went, past the kitchens and the dungeons into the deep places of the castle where it seemed like even sounds were scared to venture. There were no groans of settling stone. No mice squeaks. No water drips. Just silence and darkness but for a small orb of magical glow that Sypha held in her hands to light their way. 

All too soon they made it to the magic door that had recognized Trevor _-or at least had recognized Adrian’s blood in him-_ when he’d come before. Adrian put his hand to the wall, lighting the runes and making the stone slide away. 

They filed in, cocooned inside a strange air of reverence. The coffin was there, as was Trevor’s snuffed out torch. Trevor’s blood was streaked on the floor and on the wall from their previous encounter.

His usually iron stomach failed him at the sight of his own blood, in this place, in this setting and he started getting nauseous again. It was only fair that he’d get just as sick staring down Adrian’s father’s legacy as Adrian had in his own father’s study when they found his letters. It wasn’t any magical ward that sickened him though. 

Fucking a dhampir, living with him, loving him...all of that had come easier to Trevor than he would have thought. Years of being conditioned to hunt the night creatures was quickly undone when it came down to it, but he couldn’t deny that a tiny seed of revulsion still existed. It had been placed inside him by others even though he hadn’t wanted it, and certainly hadn’t nurtured it. The fact that it would rear its ugly head now just as he was about to surrender completely to the night made him feel like he was betraying Adrian somehow, after all he’d done for him and all he was still doing for him. 

Sure, he didn’t have a choice, not if he didn’t want to roast in hell, but they were finally at the point of no return and it was taking more of his resolve than he’d expected to move forward. 

Sypha must have seen him turn green and she reached out to hold his hand in support. He couldn’t stop himself from shivering again. And Adrian, again, apologized for things beyond his control. 

“I’m sorry we had to come back here Trevor, but this is the most secure place in the castle. The wards here, the protections, they will keep you safe if…”

Trevor had to stop him. He put his hand over his mouth to shut him up. He wasn’t used to this...this _sorrow._ Neither one of them was the type to whine helplessly about their lot. _Bitching while fighting didn’t count._ Pity didn’t suit them. Nor regret. Of anyone, they two were the ones who always knew what had to be done, and they did it. They would do this too. 

But Adrian wouldn’t look at him. He was pointedly avoiding his gaze, when it was usually his gold eyes that sought out Trevor’s blue. Maybe he was still thinking about how he’d miss the color of them but Trevor wondered if they’d somehow fallen back to a place where Adrian wasn’t telling him everything, where there was some vital piece of information that he was missing, that he was sure he’d object to if he only knew. 

His reserves of will to call out bullshit, however, were as low as they could possibly be, so maybe it was time to just...just… _trust._

He trusted Adrian and he trusted Sypha. He trusted this castle, that was now his home. He even trusted the damn forgemasters outside with their knives and their zombies and their fucking necromancer magic. It was a hell of a lot more than he’d ever had to trust in.

“Come on, let’s get to it already. My soul’s not getting any _less_ damned while we stand here moping.”

Sypha smiled at him, confident and resolved, and she got started. She walked the circumference of the chamber, then she crossed it, then she circled around again. When she followed the same path a third time, magic followed her feet and the lines of a casting circle emerged in the stone beneath them, faintly radiating red light. She walked back and forth making a pattern in the floor and when that was done she started carving out the air. With elegant strokes of her fingers, tails of light dissolving in the wake of her movements, runes appeared on the walls of the crypt, also glowing red. 

When her art was complete she moved to Adrian and the two of them exchanged details of what he must do but Trevor’s mind wandered to the things a mind suddenly becomes preoccupied with when staring down death. 

He recalled that he heard once, or read, or maybe someone told him, that death was but a journey. His whole life had been a journey, quite literally, so that was nothing new, but he realized that wherever this next trip took him, he wouldn’t be able to bring along the things he normally did.

“Sypha.” He waited until they finished talking and then he gave her his own instructions. “If I uh...if I can’t use it anymore after this, I need you to give my Morning Star to Hector. He knows how to handle a whip, _even though he’s not nearly as good as I am,_ and I know you think it’s ugly or I’d give it to you, but what the hell would you do with it? My dad’s letters though, I want you to keep those. He’d probably think it was funny that I gave a bunch of speakers his _written_ history. And there’s a few other things I know are down in the hold that I never really thought about before, but we should probably finally do something about them. Like all the crucifixes. I want you to burn all the fucking cruxifixes down there...”

He was rambling, he knew, but she listened patiently to his pathetic last will and testament. Adrian too was quiet until he ran out of things to say. 

They gave him one more moment of silence and then she asked firmly, “Okay, Trevor. Are you ready?” 

He nodded.

“Adrian knows what to do. I’m sorry I can’t...I can’t be here when…” 

Their collective language had long ago degenerated into stuttering, unspoken supposition, so he didn’t bother to wait for her to finish that sentence. 

“Yeah, I get it.” He absolved and released her. “Go help the others hold down the fort.”

She smiled at him again in parting and then she looked over at Adrian. To him, though, she didn’t offer a smile. She only bit her lower lip, blinked and looked away. She walked to the magic door and it disappeared, allowing her to exit. Before she left, she touched her hand to the wall and gifted Trevor one last bit of magic. From her hand spread a thin sheen of ice. It expanded across the entire expanse of stone surrounding them, walls, floor and ceiling covering even the red runes in frost. The temperature in the crypt dropped precipitously and Trevor’s teeth started chattering. 

“The cold will keep you alive longer.” Adrian explained as Sypha disappeared down the corridor and the door rematerialized behind her, enclosing them in again. His voice was just as cold as the room and more detached than Trevor had heard from him in a long while. “Come to the center of the circle.”

Trevor turned and moved to the middle of the room. Slowly, he fell to his knees in the center of the casting circle, on the broken flagstones of Dracula’s crypt, right next to Dracula’s coffin. Adrian took up a position at his back. 

Trevor took a deep breath. There was no reason to be afraid. If he was lucky, this would just feel like a nice nap and he’d wake up soon, Satan no longer in possession of his soul. If he was lucky, he might even still be human. And if not, then he’d be a vampire, and at least he’d be Adrian’s for good. If all the details he didn’t bother paying attention to worked out, things would be fine. If everything went as planned, there was nothing to worry about. _If he was lucky._

Instead of laughing at the hilarious improbability of that hope, he took another deep breath.

For the first time in his life, Trevor Belmont was terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...holy shit, I finally made it back to the first line of chapter 1. Honestly, if you've managed to stick with me all this time, jesus you deserve a medal. And cake. And Trevor's dick wrapped up in a bow, I dunno, you deserve it all, so thank you, and I hope you have the stamina to keep on going with me. I'll give you Adrian's dick in a bow then too.


	15. Pride

A part of Adrian died inside when Trevor asked him,

_“We’re sure there’s no other way…?”_

But he hardened his heart and he callously made the man on his knees do the same.

_“Don’t make this harder Trevor...if you say one more word, I won’t be able to do this…”_

Trevor was trembling uncontrollably in his arms. From cold, from dread, from helplessness, each reason as cruel as the next. And the tighter Adrian held him, the worse it became. There was no warmth he could impart, no comfort he could give and no agency he could offer to make any of this better. He knew now why his father had taught him the turning of another was not a thing to be taken lightly. He knew now why his father never turned his mother.

To merely kill someone was quick, their mortal life almost embarrassing in its transience. In the end, once a life disappeared, it would be no more remembered by the earth than the flowers that die when snow falls. New life would emerge over the ashes of the old come spring. It was a cycle of renewal, unto eternity. 

 _But to change a life,_ to steal it from that cycle, to rip it away from any chance of escape, to bar it from heaven and hell alike, force it to walk the earth and carry with it such monstrous hunger that no food or drink can satisfy...to wield such a terrible power as this was _not_ creation. This was no gift. He was no savior. There was no love in this. Only selfishness. Only hubris.

He loved Trevor. With all the marrow in his bones and all the breath in his lungs. With each beat of his heart, he loved him. 

But he slit his throat anyway. And spoke not one word of that love as he did it.

Adrian watched as his love’s blood spilled to the floor, and he caught him when his legs gave out. The thick red liquid puddled beneath them and seeped away slowly as if pulled by puppet strings towards the runes, activating the magic that Sypha had laid there. The devil would feel it and he would come, drawn by the curse. Even though they were inside the castle, he would come to claim what was his, unless they gave him something else to claim. 

Adrian swore an oath on the blood surrounding them that this would be the last lie he would tell. By omission or otherwise, he pledged that if they lived to see the other side of this farce he would never leave Trevor in ignorance again. But the sin of this one final falsehood was necessary, for even if they’d been permitted the time to find a suitable host for the Belmont curse so Satan could have his souls, Adrian found he could not allow another to taste Trevor’s blood. 

A betrayal of that magnitude turned out to be something he was incapable of, even if it meant putting himself in harm’s way.

So Adrian prayed as Trevor shook, as tears fell down his face, as he closed his eyes, as the man’s heart slowed, _and slowed and slowed._ He had no idea who or what he was praying to, but he did it anyway, silent and sincere. 

He prayed that the magic of this castle was stronger, he prayed that the power of his own sire was larger, he prayed that Tepes blood had the better claim on Trevor’s soul and, after all they’d been through, he prayed that Trevor would forgive him this one last transgression.

The litanies running through his head were vehement but they weren’t loud enough to drown out what he knew Trevor’s protests would be. _Selfish, stupid, reckless, proud._ Trevor would accuse him of being all those things, and he’d be right, but the decision was made now and Adrian did the best he could to put guilt aside. He had to focus. 

He counted Trevor’s heartbeats and let him bleed just enough for the magic in the runes to blossom, then just enough more for Trevor to lose consciousness. 

And then, he drank down the rest.

Lips to his neck, as he’d done so many times before, arms around him, as he’d held him so many times before, Adrian drank. But the strength he’d always received from taking Trevor’s blood like this, the quenched thirst and satisfied hunger that made him feel invincible, this time he turned that gift around. He would use it to make Trevor strong. 

Adrian wouldn’t have been able to describe what was happening if he tried. With the change of his intent in this act, something inside him changed. He felt... _what did he feel?_ A nameless power. An ancient magic. A command over death itself. And caught up in this dark allegory was the man in his arms, whose flesh yielded to Adrian’s teeth and whose blood filled his mouth. 

 _It was his blood now._ A wild and uncontrollable urge started washing over him. _All of it, all of him, take all of him..._

Now that he’d crossed the line, there was no going back. This was it, it was done. He would drink and drink until nothing of the Belmonts remained. Nothing but the ashes of Trevor’s humanity, upon which he would write a new story.

Adrian knew somehow that it was within his reach to make Trevor a powerful vampire, to use this magic and give him everything it was possible to give. Vlad had taught him that some sires held back. To assure their dominance or assure loyalty, or to craft a servant to suit their needs, whatever they may be, few were the vampires who made their children strong enough to rival them. Some even made sure the life they created could never sire another. Perhaps that was why the species had grown weaker and weaker across the centuries allowing humans to become so pervasive in the land to the point where the vampires were the ones hidden away, herded into secret spaces by circumstance and pursuit of safety. Pride their folly, pride their downfall.

That is not what Adrian would do. He was the son of Vlad Dracula Tepes. And he would use every scant fiber of whatever magic his heritage afforded him to assure that Trevor would be a paragon of their kind. 

Nature had always tipped its scales to Adrian. He escaped suffering from most of humanity's ills and was immune to many of the vulnerabilities of vampires. He was born privileged and loved. He’d wanted for nothing. 

Trevor was born cursed. His blood tainted. His life predetermined. His home burned. His family damned. He’d had to struggle and fight for everything and yet still was often left wanting.

Adrian wanted him to awaken to a different reality. So he focused and he crafted his intent to give everything he had, everything he was, to this man even as he took from him every last drop of his blood. 

When the moment came, when Trevor’s heart finally slowed to a stop, Adrian pulled away and, not wasting one moment, he cut across his own throat and brought Trevor’s slack mouth up to drink. His body was spent and his humanity was dead but whatever strange forces had taken over made Trevor reflexively swallow. 

Adrian continued to pray. Just like he hadn’t known how he would start this process, he had no idea how or when to end it but luckily the natural order that had always blessed him was now in control. All that was left for him to do was plead with it in his head to give Trevor...everything. _Everything, everything, all of me, all of me, take all of me._ Their roles were reversed. Adrian had taken all of him, now it was Trevor’s turn. 

It cost more of his blood than he could have ever imagined, there, in the castle’s deepest crypt, surrounded by black magic and the devil closing in on them. It took so much blood that Adrian was afraid he would have none left. Whether that was always the way of it, or whether his Belmont was simply a greedy soul, he would never find out because just when Adrian thought he might not be able to give any more, when the fugue of mutual bloodletting threatened to buckle his own knees, Trevor’s body shuddered, gasping one final agonal human breath, and then his lips fell away and he went limp again in Adrian’s embrace. 

Instinct was the only thing that moved Adrian forward then. Instinct, and the deep satisfaction of knowing that no matter what happened next, Trevor was _his._ Finally, completely, he was his _and the devil could go right ahead and fuck himself._

He lifted Trevor in his arms and staggered to the coffin behind them. He suddenly felt an all encompassing need to rest, but he knew it was for Trevor that he felt it. Trevor needed to sleep safely and soundly, secure and undisturbed for as long as it took, as long as he needed, so Adrian laid him down and shut him in. 

Sadly, he couldn’t bring himself to look upon his handiwork before he closed the lid of the coffin and turned away. The parting sorrow would be too much to bear, he thought, to gaze one last time on the oceans of his eyes before they ran red. He needed to leave this cold sanctuary and face the cold consequences of claiming another demon’s prize. 

He walked slowly, because that was all he could do to collect himself and gather the strength he had left. The light of the runes died as he exited the crypt, leaving Trevor enveloped in the darkness that would be his home when he woke. 

Up through the castle, with steady steps, Adrian climbed. He stopped only once to fetch his sword and he glanced only once at a portrait of his parents that he passed on the way back to the entry hall. 

When he arrived there, he wasn’t surprised at what he found waiting for him. 

“You’ve been naughty my son.”

Vlad, in the flesh, stood at the castle’s front doors. He had his arms folded across his chest and he looked down at Adrian with an unsettling amusement. 

Adrian squeezed his fingers around the grip of his sword, but he kept it sheathed at his side and he looked the devil in the eyes. “You are not my father.”

Satan, brazenly assuming Dracula’s image, did nothing but shrug. “No, I am not. But this form is appropriate, don’t you think, Adrian?

Adrian clenched his teeth and spread his lips to bear his fangs but he kept his voice measured. “I did not give you leave to call me by my name, demon. _And in my castle no less.”_

The devil sighed. “What a foolish and proud boy you are. Not like your father at all.” And then he smiled. “More like your mother, I fear.”

Adrian held his tongue, refusing to take the bait, but it was stupid to think the devil’s mind games would stop at that. 

“You weren’t there to watch her burn, were you? Ah, but no matter. You’ll see her again soon. _She’s never stopped burning.”_

Adrian was attacking before he could tell himself that this was exactly what the devil wanted. He charged forward, headlong, at the semblance of his father. When their bodies made contact Adrian crashed them through the doors and out into the night, hate and rage propelling him. 

A fissure of sadness cracked across his hardened heart though when he realized _this_ felt just like it had _then._ Just like when he fought his real father. And it seemed the devil was going to force him to fight the man again. 

The silence they’d enjoyed while inside the castle shattered once they crossed the threshold and landed in the dirt. They skidded backwards together at such a velocity as to propel them nearly to the doors of Trevor’s manor.

The din of battle, weapons clashing, magic crackling, all of it exploded in Adrian’s ears but, even more chilling, was the laughter. Mockingly, the devil laughed at him and Adrian tried to shut out only that sound. He picked through the racket and caught hold of his friends' voices, Hector’s, then Sypha’s.

“Alucard! Is that…?”

“Adrian! How... _what...?”_

 _“That is not Dracula.”_ Isaac‘s shouts followed. It sounded like he was trying to run towards him, but the fighting was thick and he was far away.

Knowing they were all still there gave Adrian a rush of renewed determination. He tried to keep his enemy pinned, but his efforts were useless and he found himself instead being thrown backwards. The terrible sound of laughter continued and moved with him. When he landed, Satan chastised him like an unruly child using his father’s booming voice.

“Did you think you could simply fight me, boy?” He sauntered closer. His father’s red eyes looked down on him and his father’s fangs were bright white in the moonlight. “Did you think that you could steal a soul that was rightfully mine and escape without making amends?” 

He bent to lift Adrian up by his throat so he could spit the next reprimand in his face.

_“You may have lost me that Belmont, but I’ll take you instead.”_

Adrian didn’t wait to find out how the devil would fulfill that promise. He closed his eyes and he drew on the blood of his sire, whose form and voice had been usurped to torment him here. A black veil drew itself across the stars and the pale moon darkened into red. Adrian shifted his form and broke away from Satan’s hold with a shrill screech and the flutter of a thousand webbed wings. 

He reveled in the feel of the wind and freedom of flight for only a moment before he reformed into a man. Back on the ground, he drew his sword. He’d lost sight of his ‘father’ but even if he’d seen him he wouldn’t have been able to engage. All of the Belmonts on the field screamed into the sky and then turned their attention on him. He fought through the horde as best he could, trying not to send anymore of Trevor’s kin down into the maw of perdition but they were relentless and their attacks were frenetic, commanded as they were by an unrepentant beast hellbent on extracting revenge. 

Adrian heard Sypha call out to him from somewhere beyond the crowd with an order to duck left. He was only just able to dodge the lethal ice shards that speared clean through the arm of a demon to his right holding a war hammer. Adrian spun and sliced with his own weapon, slashing another demon across the knees. He shouted for Isaac and Hector, hoping they were nearby as well but instead he ran into one of the vampires. 

Cassius, halberd in hand, moved to strike and Adrian was prepared to run him through, but the vampire lord’s blade came down on, _or rather through,_ the head of a Belmont behind Adrian. Just as Cassius pulled his weapon from the demon’s eye socket, the ground opened up in flames beneath it and swallowed it whole. Adrian rounded on him, ready to murder him for his carelessness alone, but when he dropped his weapon and held up his hands, Adrian contained his anger. 

Cassius snarled furiously despite his show of capitulation. “What is going on and why are these creatures attacking _you?”_ He demanded. Then he asked the more astute question. _“And who are you fighting?”_

Adrian didn’t have time for this, he didn’t have time for explanations, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted by meaningless pawns as they inched their way pointlessly across the board when he had a king to capture.  

Thankfully, Halldis saved him from obliterating one of his own pieces. She appeared from between a group of berserk Belmonts and shoved Cassius in the chest, forcing him out of Adrian’s reach. 

“The demons are attacking him because we’re all on the same side you fool!” She roared. _“And he’s fighting the fucking devil.”_

Halldis looked at Adrian then and started firing out accusations. “That isn’t Dracula, you burst out here with, is it? Belmont said the devil was after him. That thing is the devil using Dracula’s form. You’re challenging _the mother fucking devil_ for that human, aren’t you?”

Cassius lowered his arms and his mouth fell open. Vampires had moved in towards the three of them, both his people and Halldis’s, and they kept the Belmont’s occupied enough to give Adrian the opportunity to speak.

“You’re only partly right. That _is_ the devil in my father’s form.” He confirmed, bitterness coating the words as they came off his tongue. “But Trevor Belmont isn’t a human any longer.”

It was Halldis now whose mouth fell open at Adrian’s confession. He knew where her allegiance was already, so he turned away from her and offered the same ultimatum to Cassius that he had to her.

“Take your chance with me, _and the vampire who will rule beside me,_ or take your chance with Satan.”

Before Cassius could choose, the earth rumbled and cracked beneath their feet and flames rose up as if from hell itself. They all jumped away to stay above ground but out from the flames, the form of Dracula emerged again, right in front of Adrian. He reached out to grab him with one clawed hand, but Adrian retreated quickly and used his sword. He sent it flying twice in quick succession but twice it was deflected by more hellspawn that had risen up from the depths. Whether those demons were Belmonts, or other random denizens of hell come up to help their master, Adrian couldn’t say. Again the devil reached for him and again he was forced to retreat, this time transforming into the white wolf. He twisted and leapt backwards, landing on his paws and growling his frustration.

“Do you think this rabble you’ve assembled will protect you?” The devil taunted. “I am eternal in a way that even you cannot comprehend. None have escaped me.”

Adrian pounced and tried to snap his jaws around his throat but he was swatted away. Things were going as badly as they had in their dream when the Belmont manor burned behind them and Satan wearing the skin of a snake dictated the rules of engagement. Adrian tumbled to the ground and reverted back to his normal form. At least he had control over his own body this time. The devil kicked him across the field and spoke as he advanced.

“The game has been played. _You’ve lost.”_  

Adrian’s sword flew back into his hands. He parried a jab with it and dodged away from an uppercut. He phased out and away from another attack and re-materialized behind him, but the devil turned swiftly, batting Adrian away like a fly. More cracks opened up in the ground and from them spewed forth more fire and more demons. Adrian scrambled to find secure footing but there was none. He took one misstep and stumbled to his knees but instead of meeting molten rock, a sheet of solid ice appeared and it spread rapidly to consume both the flames and the demons that had encircled him. Sypha stepped out from the mist of frost and held out her hand to help him up. 

“Are you alright?” She asked urgently. “There are demons everywhere. Not just the Belmonts.”

Adrian had no time to answer because just as quickly as she formed it, Sypha’s ice melted into uselessness amidst surging flames. The two of them spun and stood back to back, waiting for something to come at them. 

The only thing that penetrated the fire, however, was Dracula’s damnable disembodied voice.

“Do you think your friends will save you, _Adrian,_ when you have nothing to offer them?”

And with that, Vlad appeared in front of Sypha. 

“Abandon this hopeless endeavor, girl.” The devil sneered at her but his cadence was like silk, suave and beckoning. “Join me and I’ll give you knowledge like you’ve never fathomed. I will put magic at your fingertips like you’ve never known.”

There was something in the devil’s words as he spoke, some dark allure that Adrian could practically feel crawling up his spine. Though he wasn’t speaking to him, he felt a _pull._ It was a wave of temptation so enticing he wondered how many innocent souls across the ages were lulled into acceptance, taking the devil at his word and taking the dive willingly down into his abyss.

Sypha’s lips were pursed and her brows were drawn together. She felt it too, Adrian knew. 

“I’m your only chance, _witch.”_ The devil pushed. _“The God above won’t have you.”_

But just like that, Sypha’s face changed. “Well, that’s nothing new to me.” She threw back. “I don’t want him either.” And then she threw her own fire right at Satan’s face, blue then white were her flames, punishingly hot, until he disappeared and they were surrounded by smoke. 

When the ash started to dissipate, Adrian’s heart sank to see that the fighting was only getting worse. 

“He’s going to try to tempt all of you.” Adrian said. _“Where is Hector?”_

Unresolved traumas were rich fields to sow dissent. He and Trevor had done everything they could to give the man time and space to heal but he suddenly worried if it was enough. He and Sypha looked around frantically. They pushed their way through the commotion, searching until they found exactly what Adrian had predicted. Hector and Dracula were together in a spot clear of fighting. Hector was on his knees, his eyes screwed shut and his hands covering his ears, physically trying to resist whatever personal seductions the devil had for him.

They ran towards him and just as they arrived, so did Isaac. He was spattered with gore with his knife in one hand and his flail in the other. 

“Enough of this.” Isaac demanded of the devil and he looked him in the eyes, not foolish enough to raise his weapons but not afraid to place himself in front of Hector.

The devil only smiled. “And what of you, loyal forgemaster? You once served the one whose form this is. Now look at you, serving his son. A shadow of his father. _A mere child._ Petulant and naive. Why lower yourself? This lot is unworthy of your skill.”

Adrian felt it again, the intense persuasion, the overpowering allure. But it was as if Isaac felt it not at all. 

“We will meet again one day, Lord of Death.” Isaac said with a faint smile of his own. “But when we do, it will be on my terms, not yours.”

Isaac moved to attack but the devil disappeared away, leaving the four of them there, united again. 

Hector quickly recovered and stood. “He’s going to move on to the vampire lords. We have to do something. There’s no way at least one of them won’t turn on you and with them go their people.”

Adrian looked around hoping to catch sight of their enemy so he could engage him again, if only to keep him occupied, but Isaac grabbed his arm and re-centered his attention on him. “You drank all of Belmont’s blood when you turned him, yes?”

Adrian hadn’t specifically said that he’d planned to take Trevor’s blood entirely for himself and thus absorb his curse, but he knew at least Sypha had assumed as much when they were in the crypt.

“I did.” He admitted defensively, his fists clenching at his sides. The question felt like salt on a wound. _“Of course I did._ What else could I have done? I couldn’t allow…”

Sypha stopped him and squeezed his other arm. “You did the right thing Adrian, Trevor will understand. Neither of you had any choice.”

“You took his blood that was tainted with the devil’s magic.” Isaac emphasized. “The devil sees naught but his curse. The vampires will only see the potential for power. Give it to them. Use them. Let them bleed you. _And then let them bleed him.”_

There was something truer to the memory of his father in Isaac’s bold words than in anything the devil had said thus far using his Vlad’s voice. 

Adrian thought it must have been Trevor’s blood in him that made him act as unthinkingly as he did on that rash and dangerous gambit, especially considering he wasn’t able to see yet how it would lead to checkmate. He found the devil in front of the castle with the vampires. He was framed by its imposing silhouette, a grim portrait of what once was, Dracula and his warlords.

Adrian went to them before he could second guess the decision, not that he would have. When he spoke, it didn’t feel like him, he felt driven to measures not consistent with who he was, _who he wanted to be._ He was entrenching himself deeper and deeper in this world of might and magic that his mother had always tried to protect him from. 

_What else could I have done?_

He repeated the futile question in his head. Much like the Belmonts, the surrendering of his soul was a death by inches. Across the years, the devil had eaten away at Trevor’s clan, bit by bit. It had taken much less time for the mantel of Dracula’s legacy to wrap itself around Adrian entirely but he finally had to accept that it had. He used the castle’s black magic. He killed in its defense. He sat on his father’s throne. And as he’d done each of those things he told himself that it would be the last time. This far and no further. But now he’d sired a vampire and he was about to use his power to challenge the devil, all so he could consolidate his rule over the night. His soul felt just as taken by the darkness in committing these acts as it would have if he’d just given it over to hell in the first place.

“Does he offer you power?” Adrian yelled at the vampires gathered before Satan, throwing away his regrets and his guilt, embracing his fate. “Does he offer you blood? Or my place in this castle?”

The vampire lords turned to him and in their eyes he could see the temptation. Rolf’s, bloodthirsty. Cassius’s, guarded. And even Halldis, hers fueled by things Adrian understood only too well. He could blame none of them. But he also wasn’t going to have his pieces stolen off the board. He pointed to the devil and made his stand. 

“This beast can no more unseat me than he could my father. He’s the one who murdered your kinsmen, he’s been using Belmonts to kill our kind for centuries. _But his pawns are no more._ I’ve claimed the last of them. He can offer you nothing but lies. My father was a madman who would have led you to destruction. _I put him down._ Carmilla was a greedy schemer would have consumed everything each of you has built for yourselves. _I put her down._ And now _he_ thinks to take these cursed Belmont lands and the cursed Belmont blood for his own. But it is my castle that holds dominion here and I’ve taken the Belmont blood he’s been using against us. _So come and drink from me now._ Know my power through my blood _and his_ through the Belmont blood I’ve taken. _Help me to put this beast down too and make our kind strong again.”_

Adrian only had time to take one breath and brace himself, for that was all the invitation the vampires needed. He’d offered himself up. His pride was his folly, but he hoped not his downfall. 

Rolf was on him first grabbing his wrist and sinking his teeth deep. Cassius gave him only one more wary glance then he joined in. When Halldis hesitated, Adrian challenged her own pride. 

“Has loving a human made you weak? You are a vampire. Now do as I command!”

She made it hurt when she grabbed him by the shoulders and bit down on his neck. All their people followed then, swarming him, tearing into him and drinking his blood. It was all he could do to stay standing, he lost track of how many mouths were on him, but somewhere beyond the crush of bodies _he felt the devil’s outrage._

Perhaps no one had ever escaped him because no one had ever had the mettle, _or the brash stupidity,_ to do so. But now, not only had Adrian stolen away his prize, he was corrupting the very blood that prize was bargained for by sharing it with the vampires.

He let them feed until his clothes were rent and torn, until he felt blood trickle down his arms and his legs, until they’d glut themselves and until some self preservation instinct inside him told him they must _stop._

He shouted the word but they were too consumed by their thirst for him to listen. He was forced to start throwing them off one by one. By the time he was free of their grasp he was breathless and sweating, collapsed to one knee and barely able to get out his next orders.

 _“Now find him.”_ Adrian snarled. _“Drink from him and make him bleed.”_

Adrian’s vision was blurring. All he could see were demons and fire, but even so he knew his commands were effective, as was his blood. The vampires launched themselves en masse through the flames, _unharmed,_ towards the devil’s hellspawn. They were vicious. They were strong. And they cleared the field in mere seconds. 

When the ground rumbled, Adrian knew he’d finally made a dent in the devil’s armor. And when Vlad appeared in front of him again, enraged, Adrian didn’t need to repeat his orders. The vampires went for the devil’s blood like it was their last chance to taste the stuff. He managed to toss away the first few that descended on him, but there were too many and they were too frenzied, too power hungry and too drunk on Adrian’s blood to relent. 

Soon, there was nothing but blood. Everywhere. Adrian’s. The devil’s. Even the vampires, as they kept getting thrown back but they kept coming. Adrian tried to stand, he stumbled, tried again and then managed to get on his feet. The blood... _the blood._ This was his revenge. For forcing him to do this, for forcing him to turn the one he loved, he wanted to drink Satan’s blood for himself so he would always know the taste of this, his vengeance.

The red moon spilled its color across the sky as the ache in Adrian’s fangs grew. He started pushing clumsily through the chaos. The only thought in his head was trying to get a piece of hell to devour. 

And then, behind him, he felt something. He turned, vision swimming, and saw the castle doors open. For a fraction of a second, he saw Trevor standing there, eyes awash in red, fangs white and deadly. 

Adrian was frozen, paralyzed by revulsion and glorious wonder in that bare moment he was allowed to gaze on the new life he’d made before Trevor shot forward. Whether the vampires cleared a path for him, or whether Trevor cleared the path for himself so brutally and so swiftly that Adrian’s eyes couldn't even follow it was unclear, but before the devil could act, Trevor was at his throat. 

The devil’s bellow of indignation shook the very air. And then the vampires all piled back on. 

Adrian watched numbly as the fires died down and the multitude of cracks in the ground sealed themselves shut. This feast might have gone on forever, the hunger of the vampires showing no sign of subsiding and the devil still not sounding his retreat despite the fact that he was a king alone on the field, all his soldiers having succumbed to defeat. The feast might have gone on forever, if not for the approach of the dawn.

The red sky mellowed and the color of the moon began to recede into a blurry gray. Like a lever being pulled, every vampire exposed and out in the open realized their vulnerability and broke away reluctantly from their meal. Their faces bloodied and their eyes wild, they ran to take refuge inside the castle, its doors still open for them. One by one they deserted their posts but it was no matter, they’d served well. One by one they left Adrian outside, one by one, all save Trevor. 

He was the last to release the devil, the last to withdraw his fangs, pull back his claws and step away. This time, it was Satan who stumbled. The beast staggered backwards as Adrian and Trevor’s friends surrounded him. They were driven back again however, and Trevor too, when a massive break rent the earth and flames surrounded the devil. When Adrian heard laughter again, not in his father’s voice but in the serpent’s voice from their dream, nothing but a sick hiss and a breath, he knew they’d forced a draw. 

The devil was eternal, and Adrian could not hope to defeat him. But the two kings had deadlocked and it was now time to withdraw back to their own thrones. It was, perhaps, the way it had been between the previous lord of the keep and the lord of the underworld. Both masters of their own domain, both in command of their own realms of death. 

Dracula’s form burned away with the last hiss of laughter but the fires didn’t die down and the earth did not seal itself with the devil’s disappearance. Instead, another figure rose up from Hades. 

Swirling back smoke in the form of a man climbed through the inferno. It had no eyes and no face, but even so it seemed to look at Trevor for a moment before it turned towards the manor. Though it had no feet to touch the ground it walked up to Trevor’s human stronghold and with it the fires of hell followed, surrounding it until both the smoking demon and the flames were at the doorstep. The featureless face turned back to look at Trevor once more before it entered the manor, along with its flames. 

The entire place was alight in seconds. The home Trevor meant to rebuild, along with his entire family and his legacy was burning once again. 

But there was no time to watch or mourn a second time. A faint pink had risen up into the sky. It was time for Trevor to go to his new home.

Adrian pushed himself forward. 

“Trevor.” He said tentatively. “We must go inside.”

But Trevor didn’t move. 

Adrian got closer. The pink blush in the sky turned coral.

“Trevor, the sun…” He reached out but before he could even touch Trevor’s arm he rounded on him and backed away, avoiding the contact, his eyes still solid red, blood on his fangs, blood on his face, blood on his chest. 

Panic erupted in Adrian’s chest. He raised his voice.

“Trevor, the sun is rising you must…”

Trevor tackled him to the ground before he could finish his sentence. Adrian landed on his back and found himself trapped. He tried to fight but he was weak from battle and bloodletting. And Trevor’s strength... _his strength was enormous._

Even at his best, Adrian wondered if he could break a hold this powerful. Trevor’s knees pinned his thighs and his hands pinned his shoulders, all as the sun crept up behind him. 

“Trevor! Trevor stop! Please!” Adrian begged and he struggled more fiercely, he struggled with everything he had.

Sypha yelled the same pleas. Their friends ran towards them. Hector grabbed for Trevor’s arm and was shoved away. Isaac tried to pull him off but was pushed down. Sypha tried to put her hands on him also but Trevor hauled Adrian up and moved them both out of her reach. They all tried again, and again and again.

Adrian stopped breathing, his heart stopped beating, he saw white, his ears rang. 

“Trevor! Trevor, please! The sun! _This is suicide!”_ He screamed. Tears filled his eyes, as he found himself completely unable to break free from the rock that was Trevor, weighing him down and holding him in place.

Fear consumed him. 

 _This is suicide._ _This is what he wants._ Adrian shook as he sobbed. _He’s lost everything. I’ve taken everything from him. This is what he wants._

Adrian couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t live through this. Not again. Not alone. He looked into Trevor’s red eyes. 

“Please…” He begged, quiet now, barely even a sound. “Please, Trevor... _kill me first…”_

Their friends threw themselves on him, pulling, pleading, screaming, all futile actions as Trevor stayed put, as immovable as a mountain. 

Adrian wanted to close his eyes when the dawn expanded over them, but he deserved this torment. He deserved no mercy. If Trevor wouldn’t grant him death then no one could and he planned to jump in the flames of the Belmont estate himself and wait for the devil to return for him. 

But as the first rays of golden daylight spread slowly across the sky, the blood red of Trevor’s eyes slowly ebbed...leaving behind a gold as brilliant as the sun. 

That savage sun shone down on them both, but nothing came of it. No consequences followed other than the illumination of Adrian’s stunned disbelief. 

Trevor stared into his eyes from where he hovered above him and he licked the blood off his fangs before he finally spoke.

“You didn’t make me into a vampire, Adrian. You made me into _you.”_


	16. Fortitude

_Oh thank fucking god. I’m not dead._

Trevor hadn’t been entirely sure that he wasn’t going to go up in flames beneath the sun's rays. He just, sort of, _felt_ that it would be okay. 

_And it was._

He hadn’t turned into a pile of smoking ash. He was still... _him?_ He really wasn’t sure about that either. He really wasn’t even sure what in the fuck he was doing, what was happening, or what he was saying, but he did manage to force out one last purposeful word before he swayed and fell.

“Th… _thanks.”_

He sprawled sideways, half on the ground and half on top of Adrian. Everything hurt but moving was not a thing in his power at the moment. Whatever blind instinct had given him momentum enough to escape a _fucking stone coffin_ and had then carried his body forward to affect his actions thus far was utterly spent. All he could do now was try to wrap his head around the unbearable pain that had taken its place.

It was as if the the very experience of the world around him was too much to take in and his senses couldn’t cope with the burden. It was all too loud and too bright. The tiny flecks of dirt on the ground under him were too sharp, his trousers were too rough and the smell of burning things was so overpowering it made his stomach roil. The brisk morning air was like needles in his lungs, _as he discovered with surprise that he still needed to breathe._

 _And the blood_...the taste of the blood in his mouth was indescribable. He couldn’t even rightfully call it a taste. That would be too simple, too plain. It was a... _ah...uuhhhhh..._

Trevor turned his head and vomited. With huge heaving gags in between gasps that hollowed out his chest, he emptied what felt like his entire viscera. The sound of his own retching only made him sicker but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t even roll away.

There were hands on him then. They were probably meant to be helpful but they only added to his agony. One pair was too hot, one was too cold and they hauled him upright, still dry heaving. When they started shuffling him forward, the scrape of his feet on the ground sent shock waves straight up his spine. He felt himself slipping back down, unable to support his own weight, but two sets of arms pulled him up, slung across his shoulders and around his waist, and they kept on going. 

Through the stumbling torture of movement, they _-presumably his ‘friends’-_ tried to encourage him along but their _fucking loud_ voices were nothing but an indiscriminate cacophony splitting his ears apart. All he could do in response was moan a broken objection.

“Just...leave me alone...shut up and stop _fucking_ moving...please...just stop... _everything.”_

To no avail. They only moved faster. 

And the light, _Jesus Christ Almighty,_ the light! Why was it so bright? He couldn’t shut his eyes tight enough to block it out. He tried to lift his arm to cover his face, but it was so heavy. The best he could manage was to twitch his fingers helplessly until someone grabbed his hand and squeezed.

Everything did finally stop with that touch and the sensory assault suddenly abated. There was a whisper in his ear. It was soft and soothing but it pulled at something in his gut and his discomfited body was compelled to comply. 

_“Shhh, be still love. Be still now.”_

The order resonated in his head and his mind immediately calmed. 

After that, there was nothing.

He didn’t sleep exactly. He definitely didn’t dream. He floated. Effortlessly and painlessly in a sensationless void, he floated. There was nothing to see or do or hear. He thought about nothing, felt nothing, until eventually _something_ inside him stirred that made him think it was about time he opened his eyes. So, he did.  

“You’re in our bed, Trevor. Don’t try and move yet.”

A hand slid into his palm where it lay atop cool sheets. Adrian’s touch was gentle as he laced their fingers together. 

The room was dimly lit by what couldn’t have been more than a single candle. As he blinked away the fog of whatever nothingness he’d been resting in, however, he realized he could see everything _perfectly._

Each thread of silk in the canopy above him was clear as day. There was a tiny chip in the marble of the mantle that was no larger than the eye of a pin. And, as he predicted, there was only one small candle with one small flame in the far corner of the room on which he could count every drip of wax down its thin taper.

“Is the light too bright?” Adrian asked, his voice just as soft as his touch. 

Trevor took a tentative breath in and he flexed a few muscles. His lungs didn’t feel like they were being gouged out from the inside by the air anymore and his skin didn’t feel like it was being flayed off by the sheets so he decided he was confident enough to use his voice.

“No...it’s alright.”

Trevor turned his head on the pillow and looked over to see Adrian sitting beside the bed in a chair. He tried to sit up, but Adrian stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no need to rush. Just lay for a while. You’re well now that you’ve properly rested but I don't want to see you get overwhelmed again.”

All the memories surrounding it might be fuzzy but Trevor remembered all too accurately the sounds that were too loud, the dawn that was too bright and the assault of being rubbed raw by the world.

“Yeah, well I definitely don’t want that either. That was fucking awful.” 

Trevor lifted his hand up in front of his face experimentally. He opened and closed his fist, keenly aware of each joint articulating and each muscle working. His skin hadn’t actually been rubbed raw. It was immaculate. Unmarred and unblemished. 

Far from the previous attack on his senses, laying here now, able to fully take in all these new perceptions one at a time was _incredible._ But the awe of wonderment extended past his own person. 

“Adrian,” He asked, not really expecting that the man could answer such a question, “is this _...is this how you live?_ Everyday, all the time...is this what you _feel?”_

He looked over at Adrian’s impassive gold eyes. There were flecks of a rich orange color in them that he never knew were there and a faint luminescence that reminded Trevor of a horizon brushed by the rising sun. 

He wondered if his own eyes were the same color now. 

Adrian blinked, breaking the momentary spell of his eyes. “Whether human, vampire or hybrid, I think that each individual’s experience of the world is unique to them.”

That was definitely the sort of vague bullshit answer he expected. 

“Oh shit, wait...” Trevor couldn’t believe he’d been so preoccupied with dumbfounded amazement over his situation that he hadn’t even asked after Adrian’s well being. A single static image flashed in his mind’s eye of Adrian bleeding, vampires feeding, and hellfire flaring. “What about you...are you…?” He made another attempt to sit but Adrian pushed him back down again.

“I’m fine. As are our friends. The vampires are still in residence, but everyone is in check and quite safe now.”

“That’s good...I guess?” He should probably ask for more details but, first things first. “How long was I out?”

“Two weeks.”

Trevor shot up before Adrian could stop him. The abrupt movement made him dizzy and he had to close his eyes against the spinning of the room.

“Two _weeks.”_ He echoed in disbelief. Passing out for an evening or so after drinking was nothing. Blacking out for a day or two after that just meant he’d either had an especially good time or he’d gotten into a fight. _But two fucking weeks?_ _“Fuck_...it feels like I was only out for a few seconds.” 

He searched his fractured memories and tried to reassemble all the many fragments. His heart started beating faster _, and as it did he actually noticed how the muscle pounded against his ribs._ He was suddenly hot even though there was no fire in the hearth. His lips went dry and on a reflex he darted his tongue out to lick them but it caught on the tips of his fangs.

_“Shit!”_

His hand immediately went up to his mouth. With a long exhale he slumped his shoulders and relaxed back on the pillows.

_Shit._

It wasn’t that he’d forgotten they were there exactly and it wasn’t that he’d forgotten he was different now. He just...

“You just need time, Trevor.” 

Adrian had let go of his hand. The impression of the touch lingered though, as did the sound of his voice and Trevor was amazed to find that there were nuances to Adrian’s speech that he’d never picked up on before. 

There was an initial puff of air past his lips that spoke to his exhaustion. Then a clip to the words full of innate confidence. And at the end, there was a special cadence when he said Trevor’s name that made something inside him faintly ache over how beautiful and unique he made it sound when it was just his stupid name.

“Easier to read my mind now, is it?” Trevor sighed. The real question he wanted to ask was: _‘can you tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to think about this?’_

Because he had no idea what to think. There was a resignation over it all that he knew was there but it weirdly felt less depressing than all the other resignation he’d felt in life before.

Adrian smiled, which wasn’t an unusual response when he caught Trevor confounded, like some kind of superiority reflex. But this smile was such a subtle thing, it might have disappeared into the ether unseen if Trevor wasn’t so sensitive now. He thought about what a shame it would have been if he hadn’t caught it just then and he wondered how many smiles in the past he’d missed out on. 

“Trevor, I could read your very transparent mind long before we shared blood. Actually _understanding_ its chaos is what comes easier to me now.”

Trevor almost couldn’t believe it, but he even noticed something new about Adrian insulting him. 

“I don’t know how I know this, but I _fucking know_ you don’t mean that asshole comment.”

“Perhaps you’ve finally learned to read my mind then.” 

Adrian looked down at his hands that were now clasped in his lap. Trevor waited for more but he eventually got impatient at the silence. Whatever this hesitant, awkward exchange was they were having made him feel like he was an invalid in a sick bed. Far from feeling like he was dying though, he felt more alive than he ever had. He may need to take it slow, but that didn’t mean Adrian couldn’t at least talk about the _many fucking things_ they needed to talk about. 

“Why do I think you’re being quiet on purpose? And it’s not your usual _‘I’ll be quiet because Trevor doesn’t need to know’_ bullshit. It’s like you’re thinking too much.” 

Adrian smiled again. This time it was obvious. “And how exactly would you know what _‘thinking too much’_ is like, love?”

Trevor let that one slide and he regarded Adrian more closely. “Listen, you need to start talking because I don’t think I can handle much else right now besides sitting here and letting you explain what’s been going on. I need to know _everything_ that’s happened, is happening and will happen, or I…” Trevor stopped and considered his words. “Because we…”

Trevor had no idea how he wanted to finish that statement. Is seemed turning into Adrian hadn’t made him any more eloquent. 

“I don’t…” He made another attempt but still his vocabulary was lacking. Frustrated, he just grunted and surrendered the stage. “You need to talk now, okay?”

Adrian leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling like a man searching for answers in the stars.

“I’ll try, Trevor.”

That was all he said for a long time until he rose and moved to sit at the edge of the bed. He reached out and slipped his warm fingers under Trevor’s jaw. With his thumb, he gently parted Trevor’s lips to touch the tips of his fangs. Trevor relaxed his mouth and let him do it.

“Are you able to focus on how these feel?”

It was a bizarre question. Trevor had never thought to take notice of how his teeth felt. He supposed he’d always been fortunate that none of them had ever gone bad. Still though, even as he wondered what focusing on his fangs was supposed to mean, he realized he actually _did_ feel something.

“Uh...I think... _shit._ I think they...hurt?” That definitely wasn’t the right word though. Adrian smoothed the pad of his thumb over them again and Trevor amended his statement. “No, not ‘hurt’. They sort of... _itch._ But not even that. They... _fuck…”_

At a loss, Adrian helped him along.

“Think about what it would feel like to use them. Imagine it, and tell me, is _using_ them what you want?”

Trevor couldn’t believe it when he mouthed the word _‘yes’_ before he’d even thought it through.

Adrian removed his hand and leaned forward. He explained before Trevor’s mind started racing with the implications of acknowledging this new sensation.

“You’ll have hunger pains now that don’t come from your stomach. And I know you’re accustomed to ignoring your stomach when you need to or when you have no other choice, but I can tell you right now, you will not be able to ignore this hunger.”

Adrian must have noticed the fear and uncertainty that Trevor was trying to control as he spoke, but the solution he offered left much to be desired. 

“My first lesson for you is this, Trevor: Accept the hunger. And accept what you must do to satisfy it. _”_

Trevor closed his eyes. He knew that already. But, as is always the case, knowing and doing are two very different things. 

He heard Adrian sigh and he felt the mattress move as he shifted his weight and sat back. “I do not know how you came to be like me. I certainly had no hope that something like this would happen. And I had no idea that something like this was even possible. My only intent was to make you as strong a vampire as I could and give you everything that was in my power to give.”

Trevor felt a sting in his fangs and heart both over the sentiment in Adrian’s admission. A strange emotion stifled him and it stopped him from being able to interrupt Adrian’s speech, part monologue, part confession.

“I am grateful for what you are now and I am relieved that we somehow avoided all of the other unsavory alternatives but, some realities will remain the same.”

Trevor opened his eyes when Adrian’s hand came back to cradle his neck. They were face to face now. 

“There are many things I won’t be able to explain, Trevor, and many of your experiences will be as new to me as they are to you. As I’ve said before, I was born this way. Things that you will need to acclimate to may be things that were always second nature to me. The one exception being this.” Adrian parted his lips and drew his tongue across his own fangs. 

Just watching that action made the dull hum in Trevor’s teeth sharpen into bright focus. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before. The urge. The desire. The drive to act. _To use them._ Like that moment right before the edge of a blade slices through the air, the feeling of this hunger made Trevor hold his breath in anticipation of a perfectly landed strike.

“It may seem small and bearable at the moment. Your body may even interpret it as exciting at first but you’re going to become consumed by it faster than you think. I’d hoped we would have had more time to let you adjust but you’ve been asleep for too long. For someone newly turned, two weeks without blood is an eternity. We won’t even be able to finish this conversation before your mind starts to harbor nothing but thoughts of blood and your hunger will turn from a manageable need to a violent compulsion. We must cross this bridge now before we do anything else and before I allow you out of this room.”

“Are you saying you want me to bite someone?” Trevor’s rush of adrenaline quickly turned on him from being mildly exhilarating to defensive and panic stricken. “That’s not happening. I’m not... _no.”_  

He stopped his protest there and pursed his lips as if that would contain the thirst trying to claw its way out from the tips of his fangs. He tried to squirm out of Adrian’s grasp, wishing he could squirm out of his own skin and away from the real reason he knew he didn’t want to bite someone right now. 

It was because he wanted it too much. 

Exactly as Adrian said. He _wanted_ it. He _needed_ it. And he knew if he started, he wouldn’t stop until the ache in his fangs stopped, until whatever unfortunate heart he drained stopped. And then, just like knowing you’ll need another ale to dull the pain before you’ve even finished your first, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop at one.

Adrian’s fingers snaked up into his hair and he moved in close enough to make Trevor feel trapped. His first instinct was to push away, and when he imagined doing it, he actually thought he might break free. _They were the same now after all._ But with one word, Adrian stopped his thought of escape, both from this space and from his new reality.

_“Enough.”_

There it was again. An order, and with it, an abrupt calm. Without even trying, Trevor felt pulled back from a ledge and re-centered. He let out the breath he realized he’d been holding all this time.

Adrian released him and sat back. He let out his own breath, closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I…” Adrian sighed and clenched his fists. “It seems there’s much I must get used to as well. I didn't mean to…”

“Stop right there.” Trevor silenced him before they got lost in the weeds. Because _that_ fucking conversation would definitely need to happen but neither of them was ready for it yet. “Deciding what to do about you being in my head even more than you already were is advanced level vampirism. And it’s really fucking clear that I don’t even have a foothold in novice level yet. So we’re going to save hashing out rules about mind control for another day.”

Thankfully, Adrian saw the wisdom in avoidance and agreed. “Yes, of course, you’re right. Although, as I was trying to explain, ‘vampirism’ doesn’t quite capture your new state of being. As you so effectively demonstrated with your little stunt in the sun.”

A peal of nausea unfurled in his stomach at the mere mention of that miserable scene. Pain shot up his fangs into his face and practically through his skull into his brain. He tasted the blood in his mouth from before and, as he had before, he lurched forward, ready to vomit. 

Adrian grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to look in his eyes again.

“Shhh.” He urged. “I’m sorry. _I’m sorry._ I didn’t mean to make you remember. Focus on me. Do you remember what _I_ taste like?”

Trevor focused, because he had no other choice, and he tried to do as he was told. It wasn’t a taste exactly that came to mind though. It was more the feeling he used to derive from taking Adrian’s blood. A special gift of fortitude that seemed like it was meant just for him. 

It helped, _-thank god, because he really didn’t want to throw up in their bed-_ and when the sickness passed, he laid back. He was ready to plead with Adrian to just tell him what to do already. He didn’t need to understand it. He just needed to do whatever it took to not feel like a fumbling child anymore.

And then Adrian went right ahead and compared him to a child. 

“I didn’t crave blood until I went through adolescence. Your situation now is likely similar to what I experienced then. When my hunger started, it was difficult for me to accept. I think…” Adrian’s voice drifted as if lost in a memory. “I think I imagined myself more human than I was.” But just as fast as he went back there, he shook himself free of the past. “Someday I’ll share with you all the things I did wrong before I finally embraced my nature. _Our nature._ Today, however, I seek only to ease you onto that path. Your body is going to tell you it’s what you want, but if I allowed you to drink your fill of human blood before you’re ready, we would be swimming in corpses and it would only make you sick, literally and figuratively.”

“So, are you going to make me drink animal blood or something?” The thought of that sickened him even more now than it would have when he was still fully human.  

“You’re going to drink from _me,_ Trevor. You already know the taste of my blood. You should be able to keep it down and it should help, at least for now. And you’ll be safe to let go and let the craving run its course, without worrying that you’ll hurt me. I’ll stop you if I think you’re taking more than either you or I can handle. I promise you though, I can handle quite a bit. I would never let you go hungry.”

Trevor didn’t know what to make of that surreal vow. The old Trevor might have scoffed and come back with an insult to match, thinking it a dig against his self-sufficiency. But the new Trevor heard only a powerful sincerity.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you first woke.” Adrian continued. “I should have been there. I should have done this for you then. It was my responsibility to...”

“Hey, stop.” It was Trevor’s turn to reach up and force Adrian’s attention back on him. “It’s fine. I’m fine. We’re here now. We’re both alive, we’re fine and we’re gonna do this... _thing_ and it’ll all be fine. Not to mention, you were a little busy still trying to save my ass when I first woke up so I can’t really hold it against you.” 

Trevor smiled and he hoped his inarticulate reassurance was enough to pierce through Adrian’s unnecessary guilt. But he winced when he realized that smiling only brought his attention back to the the vibration of need in his fangs.

Adrian touched Trevor’s lips lightly with his fingers and it was enough to give him something else to pay attention to. 

“How much do you remember from when you woke?”

“I remember waking up, getting myself out of the coffin and then...I dunno. I just needed to...to… _you know.”_

“You needed to bite something? To feed? To drink blood.” Adrian had apparently taken off the kid gloves. “We’re not going to make much progress in your education if you insist on innuendo and euphemism, Trevor.”

Trevor could tell he absolutely meant that asshole comment. Since it was completely accurate, though, he just nodded in agreement. 

“That was the devil whose blood I sucked out and puked up then?” Trevor asked with not a euphemism to spare.

“It was. You and the vampires weakened him enough to force his retreat. Even a lion must occasionally yield when swarmed by mosquitoes.”

Trevor didn’t mention that, since they were pretty much the same now, any name calling was inclusive of them both. 

“Mosquitoes, huh? I remember you didn’t look so high and mighty out there either. What in the hell happened to you? And how’d you convince the vampires to fall in line and attack Satan?”

“I let them drink my blood first.”

 _Uh-huh._ That was just about the sort of nonsense Trevor expected.

“That is by far the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard of. So, yeah, of course you did it. And of course it worked. You’re the luckiest fucking bastard ever, Alucard, you know that?”

But Alucard was already one step ahead and he kissed him. 

Trevor saw and heard and felt each step as it happened. He didn’t close his eyes or worry about how he would respond. He didn’t think about what to do with his hands or how to take control of the situation. He didn’t even think about how to prolong the anticipation of pleasure or how to maximize the high of desire. 

Adrian advanced slowly enticing him to watch. He tipped up Trevor’s chin and the pinch of his fingers there, tugging a little to open his mouth, made him feel more exposed that if he’d been stripped naked. 

He was already naked, but that was beside the point.

Adrian didn’t press any further for a long few moments as Trevor’s breathing quickened. He just hovered there, holding Trevor’s chin. Their respective fangs were all as bare as Trevor felt. Adrian’s eyes were no longer a color, but a pool of sun fire and they felt like brands searing themselves into Trevor’s vision. 

When they were together like this, Trevor always felt consumed by Adrian’s presence. How he felt, and how their bodies responded to each other, was always a thing to relish but this experience now, of Adrian suspending him in a place of expectation was something entirely more powerful than he’d ever dreamed a kiss could be. He wished he knew if he’d always been denied this depth of perception by his inadequate human senses or if Adrian only felt free to be his true self now because he knew Trevor could finally appreciate it. 

Adrian’s hot breath and whispered words when he spoke against Trevor’s lips was as hypnotic as his eyes. 

“I know that we’re lucky to have each other, Trevor.”

The kiss that followed was light, practically chaste, almost an afterthought compared to the suspense of it. But none of this was about a kiss.

“Now take from me what you need, love. _And don’t stop until you’re satisfied.”_

~

Adrian hoped Trevor hadn’t heard his voice waver, but he knew he had. He hoped Trevor didn’t feel his hands tremble, but he knew he did. He hoped Trevor couldn’t taste his fear, but he knew he would. 

All hope aside, this was as it should be.

That first rough penetration was nothing but teeth and pain. Adrian caught only a glimpse of Trevor’s gold eyes turning red before the man was on him and had him flat on his back on the bed. He hissed harshly as he sank his fangs in. Adrian had to clench his jaw to stop himself from crying out. When he felt his blood gush forth though, and then felt Trevor’s first swallow, he allowed himself a moan as some small outlet for his own profound sensations. 

He kept his fingers twisted in the sheets at his sides as Trevor drank, fighting the urge to grab him, hold him, pull him away and sink his own fangs into him. He should have expected no less than this delicious conflict of interests. What else was he to feel when Trevor grabbed his head and craned his neck back to expose the pulsing lines of his vessels? What else could he do besides let Trevor drink from him and pray he could keep himself under control?

Because there was no guarantee any longer that he would get what he wanted if he fought back. 

Though Adrian knew he still had a certain amount of influence, in a test of raw strength, who was to say that Trevor wouldn’t emerge the victor? The man’s nature had always been wild and untamed and he certainly wouldn't be the first to challenge his sire if that’s what it came to.

Heat and fear built up in Adrian’s chest and his head was quickly consumed by a bottomless rush of disquiet. Trevor was nothing but a beast and Adrian was at his mercy in a way he’d never been at anyone’s mercy before. The simple acknowledgement that he didn’t know what would happen next, transformed into thoughts of what might happen, what could happen, _what he wished would happen._

Trevor came up for air and Adrian felt his skin tear as he ripped his fangs away. But if he thought this was a chance to catch his own breath and collect himself, he was wrong. Trevor plunged back down immediately and kept feeding. 

Adrian made another helpless sound as he tried to manage his reactions. He was very aware that Trevor was attuned to them in an entirely new and intimate way. Adrian’s conscious responses to the pain, his tightened muscles and grunts of intolerance seemed only to make Trevor more greedy and more vicious. Worse than that though, Adrian’s unconscious responses, his breathy sighs with each tug of Trevor’s fangs and his stiffening cock each time the man sucked, were the real fuel on their mutual fire. 

Adrian was fast finding the mindless pleasure of this unique fear both sweet and maddening. There was a restful release in the knowledge that he was powerless and a certain calm in the humiliation of it. And in the face of Trevor’s newborn strength and domination, a double-edged sword that Adrian had brought down upon himself, it was all too easy to let go, and succumb. 

Never before had he been placed in a position of such vulnerability. Intermittently he tested the boundaries of it only to be beaten back by Trevor’s demands. Each failure to gain the upper hand forced a gasp of surprise from him and each time Trevor held him tighter at the sound. 

Tempted by all the frightening unknowns between them now made Adrian’s heart race so fast it started skipping beats. Trevor sucked at him harder when he felt the flutter of those skipped beats and more and more blood, _more and more control,_ drained from sire to progeny.

Only here, _only with Trevor,_ would Adrian know this strange feeling. An angst that was welcome and a distress that was safe.

When Trevor climbed atop him more fully and pressed their torsos together, Adrian convinced his body to relax. Little by little he let himself fall open. Head back, shoulders sloped, spine arched and legs parted so Trevor could settle between them. Which he eagerly did, pushing Adrian’s thighs aside with his knees and growling into his torn skin. 

Smothered like that, Adrian longed to reciprocate some kind of touch. He reached out and tried to steal the slightest graze of fingertips along Trevor’s hip but Trevor jumped at it like he’d been prodded with a cattle brand. He jerked away, pulling his fangs free along with another bit of Adrian’s flesh. He moved his hands to Adrian’s shoulders and pinned him down against the mattress, preventing any further touches.

Adrian was fraught beneath him, unable to act to satisfy his own urges and hesitant to speak, knowing it would fall on deaf ears. Trevor’s eyes were still red, full of aggression and hunger. He was covered in Adrian’s blood and looked more animal than either human or vampire. 

And yet, unexpectedly, Trevor spoke with deliberate intent.

“You want me.” He said slowly, taunting Adrian with the truth. _“You love this._ I can taste it. I can smell it all over you.”

He forced a kiss onto Adrian’s parted lips then, and _fucking hell he did want it._ He loved it. He loved the fear and the pain and the fucking terrifying uncertainty of submitting to the will of this powerful new chaos creature he’d made.

Adrian tried to control the kiss, he tried to take just one accidental drop of blood for himself but Trevor didn’t let him. He pulled away leaving him unsatisfied and moaning, awaiting whatever torture was to come next. 

When Trevor laughed low and deep, Adrian felt the smugness of it in his core and it made him want to strangle the man. He imagined shoving him off the bed, shoving him against the wall and fucking him until he admitted who was really the master here. 

But that designation wasn’t as clear in reality as it was in Adrian’s head. 

Trevor re-positioned only enough to, _effortlessly,_ grab Adrian by one arm and flip him around onto his stomach. Trevor not only didn’t let go, he gathered up his other arm and pinned both of them down at the small of Adrian’s back with one hand holding his wrists in a death grip. 

Impossibly, Adrian realized he was completely unable to move. He tested Trevor’s hold but it earned him only another bite on his shoulder. 

After a few sucks and a languid lick of the trickling blood across his scapula, Adrian felt Trevor’s other hand start to pull down his trousers. Trevor was already fully undressed so he didn’t have much work to do to get them both naked. 

Adrian tensed up involuntarily and he struggled to lift his face from the tangled sheets. Trevor just pushed down on his wrists and then the cheeky bastard had the nerve to slap him once, _hard,_ on his bare ass. 

Adrian didn’t even have time to think of an action in response because Trevor swiftly wrapped his other arm around his waist and lifted Adrian’s pelvis so he was on his knees now, face still pressed to the sheets, legs spread, with Trevor curled over him.

Slowly, Trevor teased up and down in an unsatisfying rut with his hard cock against the cleft of his ass. Adrian was dying to touch his own aching cock but he couldn’t get his hands free. Trevor read his mind and spoke Adrian’s shame right in his ear.

“You said I could take what I wanted. And you said don’t stop until I’m satisfied. I can’t be satisfied until I fuck you Adrian.” Another lick at his shoulder. “You taste _too fucking good.”_

Dread shot through him when the crude sound of Trevor spitting and the slick feeling of saliva on his too-sensitive skin brought into focus exactly what was going to happen next.

Without preamble or preparation, Trevor lined himself up and thrust inside. 

Adrian bit his own lip until he tasted blood and yet still he couldn’t help but cry out. He didn't think Trevor heard it and he didn’t think he would have stopped even if he had because he was too busy yelling a string of curses at his own pain. Adrian knew it was too much for him, he knew from his own experience that the heat, the tightness, the raw friction was going to send him over the edge but Adrian couldn’t help calm him, he couldn’t soothe him down from the overload of sensation because he was too busy struggling through his own.

“Adrian…” Trevor hissed out his name and started fucking him before either of them were ready. He probably had no idea how to control himself and Adrian was in no position to show him how. “This can’t be real.” He stuttered with his stuttering thrusts. _“This can’t fucking be real.”_

Adrian’s strained arms burned from being wrenched behind him and Trevor’s escalating, pounding pace, _tight and rough and feral,_ was enough to make Adrian beg. 

“Trevor...please…”

He couldn’t form words around what he wanted. Relief? Release? Respite? Reward?

Trevor didn’t hear at first, still consumed by his own euphoria. “Is this what it’s like for you when you fuck me? Is this what you feel? _Fucking hell…”_

“Please…” Adrian insisted, louder, more desperate. _“Harder._ Fuck me harder. Let me come, please…”

He would never live down this indignity but he didn’t care. This was so much more than he’d ever dared hope he could have with someone. Someone who knew him as none other. An equal. Someone who could bring him to the edge, threaten him, force him to take what was given and drive him to relent. 

But, he quickly realized, balanced scales were the easiest to tip. 

When Trevor gathered his long hair in his fist and pulled him up just enough to bite down on the tender flesh of his neck again, Adrian was lost entirely. They were both lost. Lost in the experience that no mere human could imagine or endure. Every sensation heightened, every feeling so acute as to be almost unbearable. 

Adrian only just managed to wrestle the noises he was making down to soft whimpers. He sobbed silently as Trevor, still cursing and yelling, fucked him, blindly chasing after the satisfaction he sought for both his vampire body and his human soul. 

It went on like that, _on and on,_ Trevor’s hungers seemingly insatiable. There was a new space Adrian found though, deep inside the pain. It was a fortitude he was sure Trevor knew about but was brand new to him. There was a release in the success of endurance. And peace in the nobility of surrender. 

Soon, he stopped making any sounds, and the tears in his eyes ran dry. His body was no longer his own and he found he didn’t care. He’d given up on struggle, trusting Trevor to take care of them both even though he’d said he would be the one to judge when enough was enough. _There would never be enough of this._

If he melted away to nothing, drained dry of blood, his soul and his will burned out from the inside, he could envision no better end. 

It was almost sad when he came. He was pulled from the lull of submission into a sharp and sudden explosion of bliss that made spill himself in spasms. But the peak of it receded too quickly, drowning as he was beneath the waves while Trevor crested above them.

He was so thrown he hardly noticed when Trevor squeezed him tightly in an embrace and bit down deeper into his neck to take in even more blood as he found his own release. 

Trevor sucked and pumped himself in and out, long past when Adrian’s cock was spent, but that too was its own special, rapturous torment. Having nothing left inside, nowhere to go, nothing to do and no reason to seek anything else in life besides what he had right here, Adrian realized there was something very important about having let this happen. He knew this was something Trevor needed not only for survival but for acceptance. It was something they both needed to help them accept this new life they would have together. 

When Trevor finally withdrew his fangs and relaxed his hold, they were both panting messes of limp limbs and blood-stained skin. They collapsed down into the defiled bedding as one mass of exhaustion. Trevor still had a hand fisted in his hair but Adrian was able to turn himself around in spite of the possessive contact. He groaned as the other marks of Trevor’s possessiveness, _lacerations and bruises and strained muscles,_ pulled in protest against the movement until he was on his back again.

Trevor grunted and used the last of his formidable strength to shuffle closer and rest his head on Adrian’s shoulder before he passed out.

Fulfilled beyond measure and tired beyond comprehension, Adrian passed out too. He passed out completely, not daring to think on what the future might hold if this creature, this fierce and tender, terrible and beautiful monster asleep at his side, was truly the new Trevor Belmont...

The new Trevor Belmont who could now match him in every way. 

The new Trevor Belmont he’d inexplicably remade in his likeness. 

The new _Trevor Fucking Belmont_ that he was about to let loose on an unsuspecting world.

God help them all. 


	17. Greed

This time, when Trevor slept, he dreamed.

It was a strange, fevered dream but not from sickness. The banal nonsense his old mortal mind used to cook up was a world apart from this. This dream wasn’t even similar to the ones he used to have with Adrian. In those dreams, he was just an observer. Things were realistic in that shared space but he held no sway there. 

Here, he was in control. Mostly.

He was outside in the woods. How? Why? He wasn’t sure how and he had no idea why. He hadn’t been thinking about taking a stroll through the forest before he fell asleep but there was a giant moon out to admire so he was content to do so. It was bigger than any he’d ever seen, full and bright and pock-marked. Its marred beauty made something in him want to howl. When he heard a howl in the distance somewhere, he smiled. 

Other than that single sound, everything was quiet. On a whim he lifted his hand and a gentle breeze blew through his fingers. He closed his eyes, wanting to fully appreciate the fact that he ruled the very air here but the cool wind changed into a blast of heat. When he opened his eyes back up he was inside the Belmont hold, surrounded by fire. 

The flames didn’t touch him. They didn’t dare. They leapt and danced in unnatural directions just to keep away from him, in fact. The rest of the hold wasn’t so lucky. Shelves toppled like toy soldiers, reduced to splinters by the blaze. All the books had turned into flakes of soot, drifting, floating, falling. When he stepped forward, the inferno parted and he smiled at that too. He walked up the stairs that led into the manor but when he stepped through the door at the top he found himself in the castle instead, in the corridor outside the throne room to be specific. 

With a wave of his hand he opened the doors in front of him. The hall was dark but at a snap of his fingers magic light exploded inside the fixtures on the pillars. They lit in sequence from where Trevor stood across the room and up the staircase until they reached the top, where Adrian sat on his throne. 

The vampire king was a mess. Bruised and bloodied and naked. And aloof and proud and _infuriatingly fucking beautiful._

Before Trevor knew it, he’d traveled the distance between them and stood before his lover... _partner?...husband?...sire?_

“What are you to me now?” He asked. It was a simple enough question for any other pair of lovers but it was infinitely more complicated for the two of them. “And what am I to you?” 

Everything between the two of them was always so damn _complicated._

Trevor was trying not to think about the fact that he’d more than likely be living out this damn complicated life _forever_ when Adrian smiled. He’d have to live with that arrogant smile forever too. 

“The answer to both of those questions is the same, Trevor: _everything.”_

That was about as modest an answer as he expected.

Trevor sighed and knelt at Adrian’s feet but when he looked up at the man on his throne, he didn’t feel like he was resigning himself, or submitting or surrendering to anything. There were bruises on Adrian’s hips. And bite marks all over his neck. He looked drawn and pale, tired and _hungry._

And it was _that_ kind of hunger. _That_ kind of hunger that Trevor knew all about now. He’d been the one to inflict this damage, satisfying that hunger, and Adrian had let him. 

Trevor feasted his eyes on the consequences of his new violent proclivities. Perhaps no less violent than his old ones, he supposed, but certainly more meaningful. He remembered the feel of Adrian’s straining muscles fighting in his hands, the taste of blood on his tongue and all his senses seemed to spark into life even from within the sleepy solitude of a dream. 

 _Fuck it._ If that hadn’t felt like everything he’d ever need in life from now until eternity, then nothing ever would. So, yes. The filthy smug fucker glaring down at him was, indeed, _everything_ to him.

Adrian opened his arm as if to put himself on display, even more than he already was. 

“Your handiwork may not be pleasant to look upon, my vicious love, but make no mistake, I welcomed it with my eyes wide open.”

Adrian tilted his head back and his lips parted in a new tiny smile that lacked the previous arrogance. He spoke low, to himself more than to Trevor. 

“There has never been another who has had such command over me. If I’m honest, I’m a bit frightened by the liberties I allowed you to take. But I will admit that the experience was…”

When he didn’t finish the sentence, Trevor tried to finish it for him. 

“...the experience was so good we should do it all again now?” And then he pressed his case by pressing his lips to Adrian’s belly button.

That was the wrong answer apparently since, instead of accepting that suggestion, Adrian pulled his head away by yanking at his hair. 

 _“It was a good start.”_ He said, then he added more gently, “And it was as close to _whole_ as I’ve ever felt. But I can’t always let you have your way, so take care.”

Part of Trevor _-well, all of him actually-_ wanted to complain. And since this was _his_ lucid dream, he did.

“Does that mean you’re going to clip my wings if I get too rowdy?” Trevor ran one hand up Adrian’s thigh and goosebumps rose up under his fingertips. Adrian’s cheeks flushed demurely but his eyes darkened and he bared his fangs. 

_“I will do what I must to keep you tame.”_

Trevor looked away, suddenly cowed, but this was still _his_ dream, his first foray into a world only Adrian had dominion over in the past. So he pushed. 

“It might be fun to see you try.” 

Trevor moved both his hands up Adrian's thighs now, up and up until they reached his cock. Adrian’s breath hitched but he did nothing when Trevor grabbed hold and started stroking, “I never let anyone cage me in as a human. What makes you think you can manage it now? I bet I’m just as strong as you and I’m a quick study. I’ll figure this dhampir thing out soon and then where will we be?”

Adrian struggled a little to control his tone as Trevor tugged him off faster and then dipped his head to lick once, _and only once,_ along Adrian’s tip. 

“We’ll be in the same place we always were, love. With you stirring shit and me having to clean it up.”

Trevor released Adrian’s now full erection. He scooted forward so they were chest to chest and wrapped his fingers around a few strands of Adrian's filthy hair, matted by sweat and blood. He nudged a little and Adrian allowed himself to be pulled down into a kiss.

He meant it to be brief. A single, soft, affectionate gesture. He wasn’t prepared for his thirst to surge at the mere touch of tongue, the lingering taste of blood, and the faint waft of sex. Even from within the confines of a dream, there was no escaping it.

Almost instantaneously, Trevor lost control. Like some unhinged half-mad demon, he grabbed the back of Adrian’s head and forced their mouths closer. He tasted a fresh gush of blood and then he felt it seep between his fingers as his claws _-he had claws now?-_ dug into Adrian’s scalp.

All he could hear was his heart throbbing somewhere up in his head. All he could feel was a _need_ throbbing right at the base of his cock. All he could smell was Adrian, as if he’d been born into the essence of the man in his grasp, as if it was all he would ever know again and the only point to his existence was to keep hold of it, his whole world, everything, _everything..._

He almost dragged Adrian down to the floor but where one second he was the one forcing his claim, the very next second found the tables turned. 

Before Trevor could sneak one more drop of blood he was pushed away and he might have been launched across the room if Adrian hadn’t throttled him with both hands and changed their positions. Trevor was thrown back into the throne, the wind knocked clear out of him.

Trevor tried to speak but the grip on his throat tightened making his voice thin and weak. Adrian was balanced atop him, one knee digging into his thigh and one between his legs... _grinding against his dick._  

Trevor snarled. _“Bastard.”_

 _“Belmont.”_ Adrian replied in kind. 

It was as painful as it was arousing and even though Trevor’s hands were free and he wanted nothing more than to flip them again so he could get more out of this than a little friction, he kept them at his sides and gripped at the armrests in frustration.

Adrian grinned and in contrast to the rough treatment, he softly drew the tip of his nose up Trevor’s chin, across his lips, and along his cheek until he was positioned to whisper in his ear. 

“Your time as an immortal has been mere moments compared to the centuries that some of the vampires in our court have roamed the earth.”

The press of Adrian’s knee against his erection turned deliberate. A slow push and rub. The contact was an aggravating taunt, every bit as much as the taunts being whispered in his ear. 

“You’re no better than a boy with his first sword. Or whip in your case. And even more dangerous. Though amusing, I’ve had enough of this game. It is time for us to wake.” Adrian said firmly. “There are things I must attend to. And none of them is your cock.”

Despite his claim otherwise, Adrian kept rubbing at said cock. Trevor grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“This is still my dream.” He protested through a smile and he bucked up his hips to get a longer stroke out of Adrian’s knee. “If the only power you have here is to make me come my pants, then I win anyway.”

Adrian’s laughter at Trevor’s folly-filled statement was almost chilling enough to disrupt his hard on. 

“How wrong you are, love. I don’t need to manipulate your mind to bend you to my will. You’re not going to come here. You’re not going to come when we wake up. _You’re not going to come until I allow it._ So, if I were you, I would give over control of this dream to me, or I promise you won’t like how I take it from you.”

Adrian removed his hands from his throat, lifted his knee off his crotch and then gifted him with an all encompassing kiss. Their fangs knocked together and their tongues were cut open. Blood filled Trevor’s mouth and he swallowed it down. The warmth of it went right to his core and he moaned. 

At least he hoped it sounded more like a moan than a needy whimper. 

When he decided he was finished, Adrian separate them and cupped Trevor’s face with his hands. Trevor relaxed back on the throne. 

 _Maybe if I let him have his way, we can fuck when we wake up?_ Adrian had never been able to resist mutual temptation. It was worth a try. 

So he acquiesced and the next instant found them not in the throne room, but in their bed. Adrian was just as bruised and bloodied and Trevor was just as hard and hungry. And they were both naked now. 

Adrian turned underneath the arm Trevor had tossed across him in slumber. Trevor was again struck at the acuteness of his senses. The sheets beneath them smelled… _fucking awful._ And they felt even worse against his skin, soiled with more bodily fluids than he cared to think about. Even so, his revulsion wasn’t enough to overcome a raging desire to defile their bed even more. The scent of Adrian’s blood was stronger than the scent of stale sex and his aching dick would not be ignored. He tried to gather Adrian up into an embrace that he hoped would lead to more, but his arms embraced nothing but air. 

Somehow, Adrian had moved faster than even his new vampire eyes could see and he was now standing next to the bed. He was towering, looming, and it made Trevor feel helpless despite his transformation to the contrary. 

“You’ll get nothing more from me until I deem it necessary, Trevor. I cannot have you act like a greedy, mindless little infant when I need you to act like the powerful consort of a king. So, as I said, _control yourself,_ or I will do it for you.”

Trevor winced involuntarily at the rebuke and then that threat became all too real. He moved to sit up but the action only made him even more aware of his neglected erection. Reflexively he went to take hold of it but something stopped him. Some external force of absolute control had Adrian’s voice sounding off in his head forbidding him from seeking release, and he could do nothing but listen and obey. 

“Oh you.... _rrrrgggghhhh_ ....” Trevor growled as he flopped backwards onto the mattress again and pounded two petulant fists into the pillows. _“You mother fucking asshole._ I can’t fuck you _and_ I can’t jerk off? I can’t even fucking touch myself? How the hell am I supposed to piss straight? Wait...do I still need to piss? Or…”

“Thank you, as always, for degenerating into the ridiculous. Yes, you will still need to piss. And yes, I’ve decided to exercise what scant authority I seem to have over you as a consequence of your turning.” 

Adrian’s voice and features softened then and he reached down to card one hand through Trevor’s bed-mussed hair. “I have a sacred responsibility to you now that I did not have before. We are irrevocably bonded, far beyond what we had been when you drank my blood as a human. I must do right by you and help you to grow into your new power without suffering the consequences so many others fall prey to. As per usual, however, we have precious little time before the world begins to claw at our bed posts. For now, this is the only way I know of to train you effectively, so this is how it must be. Your hungers, both common and carnal, are going to be harder for you to control than mine are for me. I’ll be strong for both of us until you’re ready.”

Adrian kissed him lightly. No fangs, no blood and no temptation. Just a promise that this was best, though it was of little consolation to Trevor’s poor cock. 

He sighed in true resignation this time. “So that’s it then? No fun for me until I prove I won’t turn the nearest town into a bloodbath?”

“Or the nearest pack of vampires.”

Trevor couldn’t help but notice that Adrian’s cock was just as hard and just as wanting as he started to dress.

“Are you planning on holding court with your dick standing at attention? Not very dignified, _Your Majesty._ Can I at least watch you jerk off? Promise I won’t touch. Or I could? Or I could suck you off? Lots of options that don’t involve me getting off. Come on.”

Adrian kept dressing and didn’t even deign to look back at him as he responded. “Trevor, your mouth isn’t going anywhere near my genitals until you learn how to manage your fangs. You cut your own lip with them a little while ago.”

Hm. Well. There was no arguing the logic of that. 

“Yeah. Okay.” Trevor conceded. “So, what am I supposed to do now? You’re basically just saying you’re going to force me to submit no matter what.”

Adrian grinned. “Yes. I am.”

“And what if I try to go rogue anyway? It’s not like it’s ever just been me stirring shit up around here. That’s practically part of the vampire code.”

Adrian threw some clothes at him.

“I shouldn’t have to remind you that you are not a vampire like those in our court or outside the castle’s walls. And you are no longer a devil-cursed human monster hunter running rampant across the land. For better or worse, you are unique, like me. And I can’t allow any accidental shit-stirring on your part to be perceived as malfeasance.”

Trevor wrinkled his nose. _“Malfeasance?_ I don’t know what that word means.”

Adrian huffed and pointed at their bedroom door. “It means you and I must rule that rabble out there. That rabble out there, I might add, that has been waiting less than patiently to take your measure after watching you feed from Satan and then sun yourself in the daylight. If we descend into the untamed, they will too. Then we’re no better than the devil we just sent back to hell.”

Trevor reluctantly rose from the bed and walked over to Adrian. Maybe he _was_ behaving like a little boy with his first whip. Acting without thought of consequence. Moving on instinct. Greedy for adventure and eager to experience everything. No guarding, no hiding, no running, no justifying, as boys do, with no scars yet to tell them otherwise.

Trevor stopped Adrian before he slipped on his shirt and rested his hand on top of the long scar across the man’s chest. 

“Adrian, I...this... _all of this_...understanding more now, feeling things the way you feel them…it’s just...” He was suddenly taken by an urge to delve deeper, share more…

Until a blinding pain tore across his own chest. It was searing and _real_ for all that he knew it was nothing but a second-hand echo of a wound that had been Adrian’s, not his. He pulled his hand away as if it was on fire and he stumbled backwards, landing on his ass on the floor. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, smothered not by any injury, but by betrayal and sadness, cold fear and hollow shame...

 _“Trevor, look at me.”_ Adrian commanded and Trevor obeyed, looking right into his gold eyes. He’d grabbed both of Trevor’s hands by the wrists and was kneeling beside him. “You’re not ready to share the experience of that memory with me quite yet, love. Now focus on something better. Remember last night. Remember being in control. Remember feeling _strong_ and safe and sated.”

Trevor closed his eyes and remembered. It came back quickly, thankfully, and pain gave way to pleasure, sadness to satisfaction.

When he settled enough to stop sweating, Adrian released him and they both exhaled. “There will be time enough to share my pain with me, Trevor. Some day. Until then, it’s best for you to focus on the good in your situation. So, tell me what you remembered.”

Trevor forced himself to articulate the memory rather than just trying to molest Adrian all over again. He imagined the attempt would turn out much the same as it had in his dream. 

“Fucking you felt amazing. Biting you felt amazing. I didn’t think anything so good could exist in the world.”

Adrian stroked his cheek once, with one long finger and smiled down at him as he stood. The series of actions felt like the equivalent of a _‘good boy, Trevor’,_ but he accepted it without complaint. There was no need for scrambling and grabbing and rushing. There was no longer a need to worry about death and mortality. There was no longer a need to fight for survival so there was no reason for gluttony or greed. There was only Trevor and Adrian and time. 

Adrian left Trevor on the floor and gave out more instructions while he finished dressing. 

“Be at your leisure and collect yourself. I’ll send Hector up for you in a little while. And let’s try to make your second attempt at a grand entrance somewhat _less_ grand this time, hm? Sypha was not amused by your recklessness. I’d rather not test her restraint again.”

And with that, Adrian walked out the door, leaving Trevor with the realization that he was just as scared shitless by Sypha as an immortal as he had been as a human.

~

“Lord Alucard. _Thank the gods.”_

Hector sounded both relieved and exasperated. He, Isaac and Sypha had taken turns over the past two weeks standing vigil outside their door. Adrian hadn’t asked them to but he also hadn’t sent them away. He got the impression that they were there not only because they were concerned, but also because they were smart and they knew that, all things considered, it would be best to keep an eye on the two most dangerous creatures in the castle. Just in case. 

Adrian started to walk down the corridor and Hector took up stride beside him. When the other man resumed speaking, it appeared that his passing glance at deference had indeed passed. 

“It’s about damn time you came out of there. The vampires are frothing at the mouth to have an audience with you and...and…”

“Haven’t decided what to call him yet?”

“Yes, well, _‘Belmont’_ seems inappropriate now.”

Adrian stopped walking, and considered. “No. Actually, _‘Lord Belmont’_ will do quite nicely. Let them remember who he was and how that influences who he is now.”

“As you wish, Lord Alucard.” Hector nodded and they resumed their brisk pace.

“And another thing Hector. Use my given name. My father is dead. I’ve sired another and this is the era of _our_ reign. Address me as Adrian. It is the name my mother gave me. It is the name Trevor calls me. And it is the name I will use moving forward.”

Hector nodded in understanding. “As you wish, Lord Adrian. Now, getting back to the vampires, just so you know, Isaac has almost murdered at least five of them. I was hard pressed to stop him. Sypha has had to magically ward off this entire wing of the keep to prevent them from trying to storm your bedroom. And after all that’s happened, with not a word from either of you in _two weeks,_ I almost considered letting them.”

“It’s not like you to lack patience.”

“Perhaps not, but I suppose I’m just as curious to see what the future holds as anyone.” Hector asked sincerely then, “How is he?”

“He is...as good as can be expected. Those first few experiences proved too much to take in, but he is more settled now if not more centered. That will take time yet, but he is resilient. And he has me to lean on.”

Hector hesitated a little before he asked his next question. “And...is he as similar to you as it first appeared?”

“I think so. Yes.” Adrian paused for a moment and leaned back against the pillar of an alcove. A serious question deserved serious consideration. “He is strong, obviously. His eyes are like mine. He has the hunger, but...but there was still a hint of humanity in it. I let him…” Adrian decided Hector probably wasn’t keen to know exact details so he tempered the image. “I tested his restraint and I thankfully did not have to stop him from going too far. He was greedy, as all are when they are young, but it was nothing I couldn’t manage.”

“I’m relieved to hear that. For both your sake and ours.” Hector lowered his voice then, clever as ever, knowing that even as far away as they’d walked from the bedroom, Trevor’s new ears might still overhear. “Does he know what happened to…?”

“No. I didn’t tell him yet.” Adrian held up his hand before Hector could continue. “One thing at a time. His instinctual reactions are still too much for him to control on his own. He thoughtlessly touched my scar and it almost sent him over the edge. He must stay in the castle for now. Meeting with the vampires again may prove the limit of his tolerance but that must happen before anything else.”

“Mm. I understand, but before you present him to a larger audience, might I suggest you first meet privately with Cassius. I can escort him to wherever in the castle you prefer to receive him.”

Of the vampire lords present, Adrian had hoped to take Halldis aside first and at least thank her for leading the pack in their favor when the time came to choose a side. And of the two major vampire lords remaining, Rolf was transparent enough to not cause Adrian to worry overmuch. He was certain that after a sufficient show of strength and a few not so subtle threats, that one would stay in line indefinitely. But the tight-lipped vampire who appeared to always play close to the vest was more worrisome. And Adrian remembered that Hector had previously warned him to be careful of the man who had sired so many other vampires over his many years of existence, all of whom were still by his side and ready to fight.

“Cassius? Why him? And why alone?”

“I don’t know for certain what he means to discuss but his vassals have been very insistent that he has serious issues of a personal nature to talk with you about that would not be fit to reveal in open court.”

“And you believed that nonsense?” Adrian was skeptical. He’d never met the man before current circumstances brought them together and he couldn’t think why it was so important they speak when it was obvious larger matters held precedence.

“I wouldn’t have normally, but Isaac supported his claim and recommends you meet with him. The people he has sent to petition, on an hourly basis I might add, have been consistent in their urgency and nothing but respectful towards us. Which is more than I can say for the rest of your subjects.”

“And yet you seem to have a special talent for dealing with them all. And putting them in their place when necessary. I am grateful, Hector. For that and for everything else. I hope to have time to repay you what you are due.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. I doubt Sypha would allow it. She’s not likely to let the two of you go unsupervised. For a _very long time.”_

Adrian nodded gravely and almost decided to go and speak with Sypha first as an act of contrition. Hector guessed at his concerns.

“Sypha is fine for now. She also thinks you should speak with Cassius. She isn’t in favor of you meeting with everyone all at once anyway.”

“A divide and conquer strategy from our gentle speaker? Not what I would have expected to hear from her.” 

“Our ‘gentle’ speaker wants this business done with quickly but as uneventfully as possible. As do I. So what are your orders, Lord Adrian?”

Adrian took a deep breath. He wanted this business done with as well. He thought of Trevor in his bed, of all the new things ahead of them, uncharted territory that they would experience together. New horizons, new sensations and new emotions. And none of them involved petty vampires scurrying at their feet and nipping at their ankles. But it wasn’t for him to be greedy or indulgent. He had duties. To Trevor, to his friends, to the castle and to his legacy.

“Fine. Summon Cassius. I’ll hear what he has to say.”

Adrian opted to have the meeting in a place as unlike the throne room as any in the castle. So he sat in a chair, in his mother’s sitting room, upholstered in blue and carpeted in cream, a chess board set on the table in front of him, pieces all lined up and awaiting battle. While he waited, he poured himself a cup of tea and set one out for his guest who was about to arrive.

When the knock came at the door he bid them enter. Cassius was escorted by both Isaac and Hector on either side, flanking him warily. The old vampire’s hard features were impossible to read. Adrian beckoned him to sit in the chair opposite him. 

“Care for tea?” He asked casually, knowing full well he wouldn’t be taken up on the offer. The man did sit though, but he said nothing, and just stared at Isaac and Hector who were still standing by the door. 

“Please see to Lord Belmont.” Adrian instructed them, signaling it was fine for them to leave. “I’ll join you when we’re finished here.”

His two generals nodded and left. When they did, Cassius settled into his chair.

He looked around, at the walls, the hearth, the chess board, and after a long while he finally spoke. 

“This room is untouched from the last time I was here. Lord Dracula and I played chess. It was a long night but eventually a fruitful one. We did not drink tea.”

Adrian’s interest was piqued, but he knew better than to let his guard down. His mother was the one who appointed this room. Which meant that the night Cassius mentioned must have been after his mother took up residence here. He thought it best to remain silent, however, and he let Cassius continue on his own. Unfortunately, he changed the subject. 

Or at least Adrian thought he had.

“The Belmont is the first you have sired, correct?”

Adrian didn’t answer. He was under no obligation to. Instead, he narrowed his eyes. “If you have a point, get to it. I have much to attend to, and I grow impatient.”

Cassius continued, untroubled by Adrian’s threat. “I saw what we all did. Trevor Belmont is a unique creature. Like his sire. That is cause for both curiosity and concern among our kind, as I am sure you understand. And I am also sure that your father imparted to you the gravity of making another in your image and the responsibilities therein.”

Adrian’s blood started to boil at the gall of this man trying to use the memory of his father to further whatever bizarre agenda he had here. He did his best, however, to remain calm and not lash out. Not overmuch at least. 

“I get the impression that your point may be to express a lack of faith in my ability to control what I have made. Your opinion is neither needed nor warranted.”

Adrian was about to send him away when Cassius explained.

“Quite the contrary, actually. The nuances of nurturing new life go far beyond simple dominance by force. I should know, as I too learned these things from Lord Dracula. To that end, I thought I might be of some assistance in helping you navigate the uncharted waters the two of you find yourselves in.”

Cassius leaned forward then and moved one white pawn two spaces along the board, thus starting a new game.

“After all, Lord Adrian, your father was the one who sired me.”


End file.
